INSTRUCTIONS: Read Drabek and Evans “Social Problem Perspectives” PDF in reference to Emergency and Disaster Management. After reading the PDF in a minimum of 500 words, post your response to the three questions/assertions below highlighted in yellow in APA Format, you must use the PDF as a reference and may also use outside references as long as they are Scholarly Peer Reviewed Sources. - What are the differences between the way conservatives and progressives view the federal role in emergency management? What are the advantages and disadvantages of each? -What is meant by 'blaming the victim'? Provide examples of victim blaming. How does this concept influence the way our society responds to disaster? - What is the interface between emergency management and homeland security? Which is the 'parent' concept? Justify. Social Problems Perspectives, Disaster Research and Emergency Management: Intellectual Contexts, Theoretical Extensions, and Policy Implications Thomas E. Drabek John Evans Professor, Emeritus Department of Sociology and Criminology University of Denver Denver, Colorado 80208-2948 zted@dd-do.com *Revision and expansion of the 2006 E.L. Quarantelli Theory Award Lecture presented at the annual meeting of the American Sociological Association, New York City, New York, August, 2007. (International Research Committee on Disasters, Research Committee 39, International Sociological Association). I wish to thank Ruth Ann Drabek for her work on this paper. I also want to thank Gary Kreps for his critical review of an early draft. Partial support was provided by the International Research Committee on Disasters (IRCD) and the University of Denver through the John Evans Professorship Program. Any opinions, findings, conclusions or recommendations expressed in this paper are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the IRCD, the University of Denver, or any of the individuals acknowledged herein. Abstract This essay explores the intellectual contexts wherein disasters are defined as nonroutine social problems. The argument is advanced that this theoretical orientation can both open new doors for researchers and assist emergency management professionals in critically reviewing existing policy and future proposals. The essay is comprised of five sections: 1) introduction (how I came to this topic); 2) social problems perspectives (key insights from past and recent analyses); 3) disaster research (sampling of theoretical issues and conclusions relevant to a social problems orientation); 4) emergency management (selected policy areas and implications) and 5) conclusions (payoffs for future theory and application). 2 Social Problem Perspectives, Disaster Research, and Emergency Management: Intellectual Contexts, Theoretical Extensions and Policy Implications Introduction I am honored to have been selected as a recipient of the E.L. Quarantelli Theory Award and proudly accept. I want to thank Dr. Robert A. Stallings, former International Research Committee on Disasters President (2002-2006) for his role in making this happen as well as Dr. Ronald W. Perry, our current President (2006-2010). This award only has been made twice before and I am humbled to join the prior recipients—Drs. Russell R. Dynes (University of Delaware) and Allen H. Barton (Columbia University). I have the greatest respect for both of these scholars. Russ was one of my doctoral professors. I assisted him during the founding days of the Disaster Research Center (DRC) at The Ohio State University. His classic text (Dynes 1970) reflected some of the early literature reviews I completed. Even though it was published nearly four decades ago, it remains a useful reference book for me and many others. While I never worked directly with Allen Barton, his theoretical syntheses, e.g., 1963, 1969, stimulated my curiosity and worked like light bulbs in my formative years. I continue to admire the theory building skill he brought to the disaster case studies of his day. His work helps all of us understand better how things fit together—how differing events have parallels, how key analytic qualities of social structure and collective stress reflected patterns that might reemerge in future disasters (e.g., see Barton 2005). I am equally humbled to receive this award named after my other DRC mentor— Henry Quarantelli. His intellectual imprint was significant initially and has grown over 3 the years as I try to keep up with his latest contributions. Through his work my thinking has been both redirected and greatly deepened. Thanks Henry—I “talk” to you more than you ever could know. Before turning to substance, I would be remiss if I didn’t also thank the Theory Award Selection Committee, chaired by Dr. Dennis E. Wenger (Texas A & M University, U.S.A.). In addition to Wenger, the committee members were: Drs. Linda B. Bourque (University of California, School of Public Health, U.S.A.), Wolf Dombrowsky (Christian-Albrechts-Universität zu Kiel, Germany), J. Kenneth Mitchell (Rutgers University, U.S.A.), Betty H. Morrow (Florida International University, U.S.A.), and Tricia Wachtendorf (University of Delaware, U.S.A.). To each, I say, “Thanks.” Additionally, I want to thank Drs. William A. Anderson and B. Wayne Blanchard. As many of you know, both have years of experience as program directors, Anderson at the National Science Foundation (NSF) and Blanchard at the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA). Each provided intellectual and administrative guidance that permitted the successful completion of numerous funded projects that facilitated many of my publications over the years. These broadened and enriched my understanding of both the human side of disaster and the evolving profession of emergency management. Finally, I want to publicly thank my wife, Ruth Ann Drabek who has edited and word processed all of my work for decades. More importantly, however, she has enhanced the work by being both a “friendly” critic and an unwavering source of emotional support. You see, she always let me know, that she, had faith in me. 4 After Bob Stallings explained to me that the E.L. Quarantelli Theory Award required that the recipient present a public lecture, I began exploring a series of possible topics. I had just finished reading the chapter by Kreps and Bosworth (2006) in the Handbook of Disaster Research (Rodríguez, Quarantelli and Dynes, 2006) and was pleased to see their long-term efforts pushed to new heights (e.g., 1993; 1994). I also was pleased to see some of my old data (e.g., Drabek et al. 1981) being used in their analysis (Kreps and Bosworth 2006, p. 304) and the basic consistencies in their logic with my assessment of strategies used by local emergency managers to guide post-disaster response networks (e.g., Drabek 2003b). Hence, I seriously considered pushing my preliminary “theoretical model of disaster response effectiveness” (Drabek 2003b, p. 149; 2005b) another step or two through this lecture opportunity. Days later I decided that I might develop further, document better, and expand on a lecture I presented at the National Academies Natural Disaster Round Table (Drabek 2003a). There I had used the old human ecology POET model (i.e., population, organization, environment, and technology), to examine a series of national and international trends. I also specified some of the challenges and opportunities these trends present to emergency managers. There are important new linkages that need to be integrated with those observations. For example, Clarke (2006) urges us to go beyond the confines of disaster events as “abnormal” (e.g., see p. 129). Like Perrow did previously (1984), he suggests that disaster is “normal”, at least in the sense that it should not be viewed “. . . as separate from the ebb and flow of normal life.” (Clarke 2006, p. 128). That was the underlying point of my NAS social trends lecture. But while I described a variety of technological developments that were providing opportunities (e.g., 5 implementation of computers into disaster response agencies) and challenges (e.g., network failures during responses and privacy invasions through misuse of data bases), I really had not thought through the intricacies of the ways in which heavily networked systems—one of my trends—create new levels of vulnerability. Conversely, as Perrow (2006) points out so well, decentralized systems, like some terrorists groups, can function with high reliability, remarkable efficiency, and much less vulnerability. Hence, “. . . the loosely organized Al Qaeda network has survived at least three decades of dedicated international efforts to eradicate it.” (p. 532). So what are the implications of these observations for some emergency management officials who argue that disaster response policy should promote greater centralization and standardization among response agencies? Might not there be something to the argument advanced by Oyola-Yemaiel and Wilson (2003) that: “System complexity in and of itself could very well be modern society’s principal vulnerability to terrorism.” (p. 26). Hence, recent policy changes might best be redirected. Or as they put it: “ . . . future development should progress from the paradigm of business and resource consolidation and centralization of power to a paradigm of decentralized power and dispersed resource allocation . . .” (Oyola-Yemaiel and Wilson, 2003, p. 26). This insight parallels Perrow’s (2007) conclusions following his in-depth analysis of our vulnerabilities resulting from natural disasters, advanced technologies, and future terrorist attacks. Despite his realistic pessimism given a variety of serious structural flaws, including Congressional failures in meaningful campaign finance reforms, increased corporate concentrations and radical policy changes implemented by the Bush 6 administration, Perrow concluded that “. . . we have hardly began to do the most effective thing: reducing the size of the targets that inevitably will be attacked.” (Perrow 2007, p. 325). As I thought about these ideas for a few days, I became more and more troubled. The failed response to Hurricane Katrina kept popping up. Punctuated by images I recalled seeing in television coverage, discussions with emergency management faculty (e.g., see Drabek 2007), and scanning policy reports wherein many were proposing increased roles for the military in future disaster responses and reduced emphasis on state and local governments, I kept wondering, “How did things go so wrong?” “How did FEMA once again become the favorite target of late night comics? I thought that ended after Hurricane Andrew.” As I reflected on conversations I had over many years with the late Lacy Suiter (former Director of Emergency Management for the State of Tennessee) who worked so hard with James Lee Witt to push the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) toward levels of excellence many thought could never happen, I began to realize that my emotions paralleled those expressed by the Dixie Chicks. Maybe you know their album entitled “Taking the Long Way”. One of the songs on this album (i.e., “Not Ready To Make Nice”) (2006) contains these lines: “I’m not ready to make nice I’m not ready to back down I’m still mad as hell and I don’t have time to go round and round and round.” 7 Of course, they were dealing with a specific event that later was documented in “Shut Up And Sing.” Like thousands of others, Ruth and I were most pleased with their recognition in the 2007 Grammy Awards (Rocky Mountain News, February 12, 2007, pp. 10-11). But the anger expressed in their song paralleled what had been building up in me for several months. And when I tried talking with some emergency management faculty, really homeland security types, about my essay on Katrina entitled “Don’t Blame the Victims” (Drabek, 2005a), I realized that reorganizations of FEMA and the creation of the Department of Homeland Security (DHS), were only the tip of the iceberg. You see, I was becoming aware of new faculty who were viewing disasters, and disaster victims from a very different perspective than mine (see Drabek 2006c). When I had a few explain to me at a conference that “we are at war” and “your kind of policy criticism really hurts the morale of our troops and encourages the terrorists”, I decided I needed to go back to some basics. I firmly believe—and always have—that social values, institutional arrangements, political structures, and such, always must be examined critically. And, those who express criticism of agency doctrine, regardless of “the agency,” must be both encouraged and protected. Yet, I was encountering some homeland security and emergency faculty who were expressing the view, “If you’re not with us, you are against us.” Period! My last book for the FEMA Higher Education Project was a revision of an instructor guide I had prepared for college or university faculty entitled Social Dimensions of Disaster (Drabek 2004; see also Drabek 2006d). This resource required an enormous amount of time and energy from Ruth and I—it totaled 1,315 pages! But I believed that it could facilitate faculty literature reviews and the preparation of program 8 and course materials. In this book, in a chapter entitled “History of Sociological Research on Disasters,” I included a brief section with this learning objective: “Summarize the key ideas that define disasters as social problems.” (Drabek 2004, pp. 311 to 3-13). This section included a recommended classroom workshop built around Kreps’s (2001) article in the International Encyclopedia of the Social and Behavioral Sciences which was the recommended student reading. Workshop discussion questions included these: “According to Kreps (2001), how do disasters differ from other social problems?” and “What are disaster ‘claims-making’ activities?” Students of emergency management, like their elder practitioners, need to be encouraged to examine disaster events within a social problems context. Why? Because if they are, disasters could not be approached as simply “incidents to be managed” or incidents wherein community members would be encouraged to remain uninvolved. To quote one of the “unenlightened” emergency managers I interviewed in a prior project (Drabek 2003b), “We can handle the crisis without public interference.” Disasters could not be approached as if they had no historical context. Disasters could not be approached as if there were no other social problems within the community. And the costs of disaster mitigation, in its varied forms, could be juxtaposed against both other community needs—health insurance for the non-covered, shelter for the homeless, and so forth—and basic protections of privacy and freedom. How much erosion in civil liberties do we accept just to stay safe from future floods, hurricanes, or terrorist attacks? In short, I am very concerned about many of the policy directions and initiatives that have occurred since President Clinton left the White House in January, 2001. So I rejected the other topics I had considered for this lecture. Instead, I decided to use this 9 occasion to elaborate and integrate a series of theoretical connections that may help future researchers frame their agenda differently. I also hope it may assist emergency managers in developing a broader perspective on their profession. I’ll begin by explaining why it is essential to incorporate the analysis of disasters within mainstream social problems perspectives in sociology. Such perspectives highlight both objective conditions and social definitions of human harm and social disruption. Capturing how these interrelate requires attention to mainstream social problems constructs like class, status, power, ethnicity and gender. And it requires attention to both social context and change and historical and comparative research. Second, having established the relevance of social problems perspectives, I will show that disasters are a particular form of social problems. That is, by labeling disasters as “nonroutine,” we are challenged to address the implications for both theory and public policy. When such issues are raised, basic questions of generalization of findings and taxonomy are highlighted. Finally, I will demonstrate that fundamental social science research has been largely ignored by emergency management policy makers since the attacks on September 11, 2001. Consequently, many policy shifts are being implemented that are pushing the profession of emergency management in directions that have been and will continue to be both ineffective and inefficient. To put it bluntly: our nation has been going in the wrong direction since the attacks on 9-11. Social Problems Perspectives: Past and Present Following his work at the University of Chicago, National Opinion Research Center (NORC), the late Charles Fritz made many contributions to the disaster studies 10 area through his long-term stay at the National Academy of Sciences. Quarantelli’s summaries of these and other efforts are important aspects of our historical legacy (e.g., see Quarantelli 1987a). Over the years, Fritz helped organize numerous committees which brought together some of the best scholars in the country to assess a wide range of research and policy issues (e.g., Committee on Socioeconomic Effects of Earthquake Predictions 1978 [chaired by Ralph Turner] and Committee on International Disaster Assistance 1979 [chaired by Russell Dynes]). Of much help to many, however, has been his summary chapter (Fritz 1961) entitled “Disasters” which appeared in the first edition of the widely used social problems text edited by Robert K. Merton and Robert A. Nisbet (1961). This text was revised and updated three times. The second edition, published five years after the first, did not contain Fritz’s chapter, nor did any subsequent versions, e.g., 1976 (4th edition). Did this mean that Merton and Nisbet had decided that disasters were not social problems? The rationale given at the time is informative. “Three new chapters have been introduced—on alcohol, poverty, and war and disarmament—to deal with vital problems of contemporary society not included in the first edition. These additions have been at a price: to avoid lengthening an already long book, it was necessary to drop the chapters on problems of military life, of disaster and catastrophe, and of transportation in the metropolis, which proved to be more appropriate for graduate students than for undergraduates. Advanced students will want to consult those chapters in the first edition to learn how the sociological orientation helps to clarify problems once assumed to be the exclusive province of other specialists.” (Merton and Nisbet 1966, p. ix). That is the message of this lecture. That is, “ . . . how the sociological orientation helps to clarify problems once assumed to be the exclusive province of other specialists.” (Merton and Nisbet 1966, ix). As the profession of emergency management continues to evolve and accommodate the constraints of any varying political ideologies and 11 horrifying events like the attacks on 9-11, a sociological perspective has as much or more to offer today as it did in 1961. And it is the collective responsibility of at least some of us to bring our theory, including those unique insights found within our analysis of social problems, and our research, to issues confronting emergency managers. Let me illustrate this rich social problems legacy by highlighting seven themes which I emphasize in my own courses. These enhance student capacity for critical analysis, and in the tradition of a basic liberal arts curriculum, their capacity for freedom. Those implementing new university programs in both emergency management and homeland security are advised that failure to incorporate insights like these will lessen the analytical capacity of their graduates in their future roles. 1. There is a relationship between the private troubles experienced by individuals and the public issues of their day. For many of us, this insight is one of the cornerstones of “the sociological imagination” so well articulated by C. Wright Mills (1959) in his book by that title. Back in the 1960s, Merton and Nisbet did not use the language, but proposed similar ideas which they ascribed to such theorists as Weber (1946) and Mannheim (1936). For example, in their discussion of fatalist versus activist value systems, they wrestled with the issue of why certain social problems remain latent, off the public radar so to speak. Of course, such latency varies over time within all societies as does the degree to which fatalism reflects their major value orientation. But after referencing Weber and Mannheim, both of whom pointed this out previously, they wrote that “. . . the ethic of fatalism has often been replaced by the ethic of responsibility, in which knowledge of the 12 sources of social problems and efforts to control them become defined as a moral obligation.” (Merton and Nisbet 1966, p. 797). And they elaborated as follows. “To the extent that the ethic of responsibility spreads in a society, social problems tend to become manifest rather than remaining latent. But even within such a society, largely oriented toward directed social change, countervailing processes make for the continued latency for a time of certain social problems.” (Merton and Nisbet, 1966, p. 797). And so today we might ask about the “countervailing processes” that were operative in the Gulf states especially Louisiana, that prevented officials and citizens from better anticipating and preparing for a storm like Katrina (2005). Some would wash their hands knowing that they had been successful with the exercise known as Hurricane Pam (e.g., see Brinkley 2006, pp. 18-19; Bourne 2004). Others would point to their work that documented the continued loss of wetlands that had heretofore provided greater protection (for elaboration see Bourne 2004). But the outcome remains—over 1,300 people died. Why did the changing distributions of risk—a process that had been going on for years—remain off the public agenda? Why didn’t the preparedness plans that had been designed get implemented in a manner that could have saved more lives and reduced the trauma of rescue for many survivors? Perhaps part of the answer reflects the logic in the revision of the Merton-Nisbet text. Remember Fritz and disasters, while referenced once in the second edition, (p. 784) was replaced by Etzioni’s (1966) analysis of “War and Disarmament.” It is noteworthy that this reference came within the context of discussion of the “social origin of social problems.” This discussion explicitly raises a fundamental theoretical question for disaster researchers that I’ll explore later, that is, are social problems analysis frameworks 13 applicable to both the phenomena of war and “natural” disasters? The only place Fritz and his earlier chapter were referenced was in answer to this question. “For whether the forces disrupting patterns of social life are nature-made or manmade, they will, in the end, confront members of the society with the task of responding to them, and the nature of that response is, in sociological principle, greatly affected by the structure of the society, by its institutions, and its values.” (Merton and Nisbet 1966, p. 784). To understand the failed Katrina response, like that of any other disaster event, we always must place emergency management within the community, state and federal context of the time. It was this historical context that led Hartman and Squires (2006) to title their Katrina analysis as There Is No Such Thing as a Natural Disaster. And their sub-title Race, Class and Hurricane Katrina points us toward institutional patterns of racism, sexism, and ageism that molded and shaped this flawed response. There was much more to it than, for example, the priority shift toward terrorism among emergency officials. The private troubles of the Katrina victims reflected a whole range of public issues. This capacity to shuttle between micro and macro levels is the promise of the sociological imagination. 2. All societies are in a constant degree of change reflecting patterns of consensus and dissensus among and within institutional areas. This theme reflects my early training with Russ Dynes when I served as a graduate teaching assistant in a social problems course directed by Si Dinitz. Later I used their text (Dynes et al. 1964) in my own courses at the University of Denver wherein we examined the processes of integration that make for stability within societies and other social systems such as communities and families. It is worth noting that neither Fritz’s 1961 chapter, nor the concept “disaster,” is referenced or indexed in this text. However, 14 we always emphasized that the social fabric is both fragile, because it always is subject to change, and powerful, because it is taken for granted. Conflicts, however, are ever present and can boil over whenever patterns of strain become redistributed and highly polarized. Dynes and his colleagues put it this way. “The possibility always exists that dissensus will become extreme and result in conflict among groups, threatening the stability of the society— the Civil War is an example of dissensus become group (regional) conflict.” (Dynes et al. 1964, p. 375). I suspect that this social problems perspective greatly facilitated Dynes’ later analysis of the disaster literature (1970) that has helped many of us better understand various “mechanisms of integration.” Focusing on the community level, he carefully wove case study data into a comprehensive whole. So following a disaster event, various types of organizational units—reflected in the four cells of the DRC Typology—respond to disaster demands. At times local officials, both within and among agencies, must define areas of “emergency consensus” so that the “mass assault”, to use Barton’s (1969) term, can be coordinated. Such processes, when viewed within the social problems perspective, become much clearer to any trying to understand the reality of disaster, be they researcher or practitioner. 3. Because social problems are socially constructed, so too must be their solutions. Many of us use the phrase, “society as patient.” By this, of course, we can illustrate the role of social structure as a constraint in both how social problems are defined and the search for solutions. Unlike what we hear from some politicians today, Merton and Nisbet (1966), of course, rejected the doctrine that “evil is the cause of evil”. Instead they proposed “. . . that, to a substantial extent, social problems are the unwilled, 15 largely indirect, and often unanticipated consequences of institutionalized patterns of social behavior.” (p. vii). Today many of us would point to intercommunity crime rates and reference documentation of how these co-vary with various measures of social disorganization (e.g., Oh 2005). Or we might describe recent research from the Netherlands that validated and extended Durkheim’s (1951) classic work on suicide (van Tubergen and Ultee 2006). Following World War II, suicide rates in the U.S. did not drop as Durkheim would have predicted whereas they did in European countries that remained neutral. The researchers concluded “. . . that Durkheim’s political integration theory could explain these empirical problems if it takes into account people’s expectations for the future and if it considers the social integration of groups.” (van Tubergen and Ultee 2006, p. 233). Certainly, the near daily reports of suicide bombers in Iraq and elsewhere leads us to be curious about possible linkages among religious ideologies, different socialization processes, and resulting motivations related to such behavior. Merton and Nisbet (1966) devoted an entire chapter to the topic of suicide (e.g., Gibbs 1966). While data from middle-eastern countries is absent, Durkheim’s analysis of “altruistic” suicides is summarized and illustrated as a reflection of “. . . excessive social integration.” (p. 313). More recently, Bergesen (2006) has emphasized that despite our limited data bases, several recent empirical studies such as Papes (2005), clearly document that: “In general, suicide attackers are rarely socially isolated, clinically insane, or economically destitute individuals, but are most often educated, socially integrated and highly capable people who could be expected to have a good future.” (Papes 2005, p. 200 as quoted by Bergesen 2006, p. 459). So today, social problems analysts, like Neubeck et al. (2007), 16 trace out these linkages in their analyses of “martyrdom”, i.e., “. . . to sacrifice one’s life in the name of the cause . . .” (p. 605). Hence, “. . . a strong connection to one’s faith or to political organizations devoted to resisting what they see as oppression actually enhances the chances of suicide rather than acting, as Durkheim predicted, as a deterrent . . .” (p. 605). Remembering the acute and chronic poverty that defined New Orleans long before Katrina, we might instead focus here. And if poverty is to be reduced, like any other social problem, our focus must be on elements of structure. It is these elements that are bringing more and more American citizens to their breaking points every day. While the rates vary a bit from study to study, we currently have nearly 20 percent of our population—55 million people—living in a state of poverty (Block et al. 2006). Why? One research team summarized the situation very well and in so doing, they illustrate my third theme. “Looking abroad also shows that government policies can dramatically reduce poverty levels. The probability of living in poverty is more than twice as high for a child born in the United States than for children in Belgium, Germany, or the Netherlands. Children in singlemother households are four times more likely to be poor in the United States than in Norway. The fact that single-parent households are more common in the United States than in many of these countries where the poor receive greater assistance undermines the claim that more generous policies will encourage more single women to have children out of wedlock. These other countries all take a more comprehensive government approach to combating poverty, and they assume that it is caused by economic and structural factors rather than bad behavior.” (Block et al. 2006, p. 17). 4. As with wealth and other forms of privilege, the socially powerful also have greater influence in defining what is and is not a social problem. 17 This theoretical principle was reflected in the Merton-Nisbet text in several chapters. In Merton’s (1966) “Epilogue” which he subtitled “Social Problems and Sociological Theory,” he emphasized that there is marked inequality in the judging process regarding this matter. “Social definitions of social problems have this in common with other processes in society: those occupying strategic positions of authority and power of course carry more weight than others in deciding social policy and therefore, among other things, in identifying for the rest what are to be taken as significant departures from social standards.” (Merton 1966, p. 765). Domhoff’s (2006) look back at C. Wright Mill’s (1956) classic statement on the concentration of power within the United States is a good illustration of this theme. While acknowledging the depth and breadth of Mills’ analysis, he suggests that it had weaknesses. For example, the military “chieftains” do comprise part of the power elite, but Mills was “. . . wrong to give them equal standing with the corporate rich and appointees to the executive branch of the policy-planning network.” (p. 548). Domhoff’s examples inform out analysis of social problems, including disasters and approaches to solution. “This point is demonstrated most directly by the fact that military leaders are immediately dismissed if they disagree with their civilian bosses, as seen numerous times since the early 1960s, and most recently in the run-up to the invasion of Iraq, when a top general was pushed into retirement for daring to say there was a need for more troops than former corporate CEO and current Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld and his think-tank advisors thought necessary.” (Domhoff 2006, p. 548). So while more recent research, including his own (e.g., Domhoff 2005) has confirmed most of the conclusions presented in The Power Elite, it is Domhoff’s judgment that both “ . . . historical and sociological research leads me to place far more emphasis than Mills did on corporate capitalism and class conflict as the dominant factors 18 in the power equation.” (Domhoff 2006, p. 550). This is not to deny that an independent power base is represented by the military, but only to acknowledge that it is less influential than the corporate cluster. Indeed, as we have seen since Mills’s death, additional power bases have emerged, although they are more transitory and less potent. As Domhoff (2006) noted, “. . . power also can be generated from a religious organizational base, as seen in the civil rights movement, the rise of the Christian Right, and the Iranian Revolution.” (p. 550). 5. There is an interdependence among social problems, including their origins, analysis, and solutions. Many of us have emphasized this element of the social problems perspective. Hence, aspects of crime and poverty may be linked directly to issues of race and educational failure. Merton and Nisbet (1966) put it this way: “Owing to the systematic interdependence among the parts of a social structure, efforts to do away with one social problem will often introduce other (either more or less damaging) problems.” (p. viii). Perhaps no where has this principle been explored better than in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. For example, in the analyses compiled by Hartman and Squires (2006), these interdependencies were highlighted through powerful prose. “ . . . some noted the sickeningly high poverty rate among the city’s black residents, but said nothing about how radicalized poverty contributed to the crisis. Neither the concentration of subsidized housing, nor the lack of car ownership among poor blacks—which made it impossible for many African Americans to flee New Orleans because the city’s middle-classoriented evacuation plan was predicated on people leaving in their own vehicles—were mentioned. Racialized disinvestment in schools, public health, and other critical institutions in the core city, which impacts the suburbs as well, has existed for decades, but unlike the wind and the water, it garnered little attention. We do not believe that anyone intended to strand poor blacks in New Orleans. But it was predictable . . .” (powell et al. 2006, pp. 64-65). 19 While interdependent with race and poverty, Gullette (2006) focused on the elderly, especially females who represent an important pocket of vulnerability. Such areas of vulnerability are not sought out by hurricanes or earthquakes, but the impacts really are worsened. While many of us have emphasized the growing vulnerabilities reflected in the changing age distribution of the U.S. population, few have analyzed emergent perceptions of “age anxiety”. Daily doses of media coverage that portray “old geezers” living within the opulence of manicured retirement villages create a fiction that denies the poverty experienced by most elderly. “Age anxiety is being cleverly manipulated into a political tactic on behalf of a conservative agenda. The image of expensive codgers distracts attention from class warfare coming from the top—the Bush tax cuts for the rich, the budget surplus turned into a Frankenstein deficit, the cuts in social programs, the deadly quagmire in Iraq. All these costs much, much more than the modest changes Social Security needs to thrive beyond 2042, or than national health care. Once the alarms have been sounded, then come the ‘remedies’—weakening the very programs that are our nation’s slender warrant of being a humane democracy.” (Gullette 2006, p. 113). 6. Sociological analyses of social problems preclude blaming the victims. Living in poverty means much more than dollar levels communicate. Yet, during the past six years the number of poverty stricken Americans not only has increased, but their income has dropped below previous levels. In short, the poor within our nation have become even poorer (e.g., see Jones-DeWeever and Hartman 2006, p. 86). While all humans make choices, even the poor, sociological analyses unveil the webs of social constraint that narrow visions of option and cloud the last vestiges of hope. Degrees of freedom are socially constructed by all of us, but among those at the bottom of the economic pile, the perceived constraints become so narrow that the very word “choice” 20 becomes offensive. Yet, many, if not most who outside the poverty pit, continue to ask, “why don’t they just get a job?” Unfortunately, even among the compassionate, the reality of “the society as patient” remains poorly understood. Why? Rubington and Weinberg (2003) put it succinctly in their introduction to Wagner’s (2003) insightful “critical analysis”. “It is in the interest of a capitalist society to endorse solutions to social problems that treat individual persons, thereby creating a market for treatment industries while discouraging solutions that call for a radical change in the social structure.” (p. 251). This was the social problems context within which I viewed the failed Katrina evacuation. Years ago, this general theme was well articulated by Ryan (1971). But for me, it caused back flashes to an earlier disaster—the Big Thompson Canyon Flood of 1976—when other officials chastised victims. “We warned them, but they didn’t leave.” Rather than accepting the outcome of 139 deaths as “unavoidable”, my social problems perspective caused me to ask these officials a different kind of question, one rooted in the assumption base that blaming the victims results in poor public policy. “But Sheriff, isn’t it your job to devise an evacuation plan that works?” My application of this logic to the failed Katrina response resulted in an essay entitled “Don’t Blame the Victims” (Drabek 2005a). Reactions among emergency managers have been telling—some see the big picture, others don’t. In his reflective essay regarding what is and what is not a “disaster”, Barton (2005) offered a view that parallels mine. In so doing, he added important insight as to why a social problems perspective helps us view disaster victims differently. “The role of a dominant ideology which blames the victim or stereotypes them as less than human is to reduce communication by and 21 with them, to weaken their ability to organize themselves, and to make the rest of society unwilling to listen to them or talk about them.” (Barton 2005, p. 142). Years ago, Henry Quarantelli and I (1967), explored post-disaster blaming processes and emphasized parallels documented for other social problems. That is, by a focus on personal “guilt”, required structural changes—root causes, rather than symptoms—may never be considered, much less implemented. Our case example was the 1963 explosion at the coliseum in Indianapolis where the search for “the guilty” deflected attention away from a basic structural element—an inadequate inspection procedure. “We believe that putting other persons into the same position could have made little difference.” (Drabek and Quarantelli 1967, p. 16). But the consequences of such wrong-headed blame assignment processes are even more insidious. “Not only does individual blame draw attention from more fundamental causes, but it might actually give the illusion that corrective action of some sort is being taken.” (Drabek and Quarantelli 1967, p. 16). This is not to say that personal blame assignation never precipitates structural change, as we acknowledged. But it is to say that too often, especially in American society, this perspective detracts from analyses focused on structure; analyses wherein a society, or other social unit, is viewed as “the patient.” 7. Like war in earlier analyses, terrorism is now commonly accepted as a social problem. Following the attacks on 9-11, the threat of terrorism quickly became identified and widely accepted as a social problem. While informative analyses of terrorism have been completed, linkages to the research literature on other disasters are lacking, however. I did not try to review every current text on social problems, but I did read five. 22 Of course, neither Merton and Nisbet (1966) nor Dynes et al. (1964) included any references to terrorism. Nor did any of the authors selected by Rubington and Weinberg (2003) for their sixth edition. The insights from various “social constructionists” contained in this volume, however, are most relevant to the process of “acceptance.” Best’s (2003) analysis, for example, not only reviews some of the criticisms that have been made over the years, but also differentiates between “strict” and “contextual” constructionism. Hence, when we analyze terrorism as a social problem we should remember Best’s suggestions. For example, “. . . any analysis of the social construction of child abuse or any other social problem—requires locating claimsmaking within at least part of its context.” (Best 2003, p. 344). John Palen has written several urban sociology texts (e.g., 1997), but decided to assess the general social problems area in 2001. The last chapter of his book is entitled “The Environment: War and Terrorism.” He assessed these topics through the lenses of the same three theoretical approaches used throughout, i.e., functionalist, conflict, and interactionist. He introduced students to such topics as population change, environmental racism, and both air and water pollution, before brief discussion of “eco-terrorism”. This brief section served as the bridge to his final section on war and terrorism. “Revolutionary” terrorism was illustrated with such examples as the 1993 bombing of the World Trade Center, 1995 bombing of the Federal Building in Oklahoma, and the 1995 nerve-gas attack on the Tokyo subway (p. 477). Although military targets have been selected in some attacks, e.g., Muslim radicals bombing U.S. airbases in Saudi Arabia, “soft” targets are more popular because they better advance civilian disruption and fear. Being weak militarily, isolated politically, most terrorists perceive their actions as 23 legitimate religious or racial struggles. Hence, “. . . whether you label someone a terrorist or a freedom fighter depends on your position.” (Palen 2001, p. 477). Despite the chapter context of “the environment” and discussion of certain unintended consequences of environmental policies, e.g., widespread use of insecticides, no link was made to other forms of disaster or our rich research legacy. McVeigh and Wolfer (2004) devoted much more space to revolts by numerous groups of varied political persuasion ranging from the Ku Klux Klan as “an instrument of terror” (p. 133) to Bacon’s Rebellion (1676). In an effort to expose the “root causes” of such acts of violence, they emphasized the later as “. . . a desperate move on the part of the poor to share in or equalize the wealth . . .” (p. 298). Hence, actions like these are put into historical context with others that indicate the “normalcy” of such events when perceptions of injustice prevail, e.g., the Whiskey Rebellion (1794), the Flour Riot (1837), and so on. All of these occurred long before the “Kerner Report” pinpointed the linkages among racism, poverty, and urban riots (i.e., U.S. National Advisory Commission on Civil Disorders which was chaired by Governor Otto Kerner, Summary Report, 1968). Hence, crises or disasters such as these were placed into the broader contexts of structural inequality and the conflicts that result when activists goad the poor into saying: “Enough is enough, we’re not putting up with this anymore.” But by 2004, the reality of globalization was apparent and social problems—all of them—were best viewed as having “. . . some kind of international connection . . “ (McVeigh and Wolfer 2004, p. 365). Hence, a jump from Giddens’s (2000) view of a “runaway world” to corporate concentrations of power through multi-nationals was a logical way to lead into the root causes of terrorism. “Most sociologists argue that multi- 24 nationals are harmful as they exercise power over the governments, societies and environments of underdeveloped countries in such a way that they actually function as colonial machines of exploitation.” (McVeigh and Wolfer 2004, p. 371). Within this context, war emerges as the most important social problem confronting American society. And in order to begin to understand it, we must recognize the economic interdependencies between economic growth and war related products. Just weapons production alone is a staggering reality. “The United States is the world’s leading arms supplier to other nations, $842 billion worth in 1997 . . .” (McVeigh and Wolfer 2004, p. 386). Thus, despite the adoption of various social policies to reduce the number of wars and frequency of terrorist attacks, they argued that the U.S. “. . . still ignores the basic value conflicts, ideas and ideals between Western and Eastern cultures” (p. 394). And here at home, the largest government reorganization in our history was implemented through the creation of the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) in 2002. This bureau has responsibility for all disasters regardless of agent or origin. McVeigh and Wolfer (2004) briefly discussed a range of issues pertaining to the then newly created DHS, including the controversial conflict regarding workers represented by unions and “managerial flexibility” requirements. Even more controversial were DHS policies regarding citizen surveillance and border protection. Value conflicts regarding “the limits” of civil liberties and roles of illegal immigrants in the work force are but two of the interdependencies that must be illuminated if we are to begin to understand these social problems. Robert and Jeanette Lauer (2006) also ended their recent text with chapters entitled “War and Terrorism” and “The Environment.” Starting with Mills’s “personal 25 troubles—public issues” framework, they reviewed the familiar litany of three broad study areas (i.e., 1: behavioral variance, e.g., crime and delinquency; 2: inequality, e.g., poverty and 3: social institutions, e.g., family problems) which can best be understood by using three overlapping theoretical perspectives (i.e., structural functionalism, conflict theory and symbolic interactionism). Neither the term “disaster” nor “natural disaster” appear in the index, but both the Bhopal (1984) plant tragedy (p. 437) and the Chernobyl nuclear plant explosion (p. 448) are presented as examples of the types of threats industrialized societies must recognize and try to prevent. Growing public fears of future terrorism attacks (p. 416) are juxtaposed against rising military expenditures (p. 418) and their value question is stated baldly. “What if the United States invested the billions spent on military preparations in electronics, education, health, and other sectors that benefit human beings?” (p. 419). Loss of civil liberties, perhaps willingly given up because of fears of terrorist attacks (p. 420), is integrated with detailed cross-national data on military expenditures (p. 421), weapons sales (p. 424) and the manipulation of public threat perceptions. “Many Americans accepted the notion that Iraq was involved in the September 11, 2001, terrorist attacks, that Iraq had developed and was prepared to use weapons of mass destruction, and that a good part, if not most, of world opinion favored the American position. The news media, particularly Fox News, helped shape these misperceptions.” (Lauer and Lauer 2006, p. 427). Finally, Neubeck, et al. 2007, published the fifth edition of their popular text, Social Problems: A Critical Approach. As they reorganized and updated prior work, they introduced materials on terrorism and expanded their discussion on war (now Chapter 3). Extensive data on military arms sales and expenditures were used to 26 introduce the topics of terrorism and “the effects of militarism” (e.g., see pp. 76-86). And assessments then follow. “Militarism affects the quality of life in more than just economic ways. It also interferes with our democratic rights and civil liberties.” (p. 87). “If human survival is the goal, then disarmament will play an important role in meeting it. But the first step is to reduce the ready access to weaponry. The United States, now the number one arms exporter, must stop making the world into an unstable armed camp through its sale of arms and military-related technology to other nations.” (p. 90). “It is up to people in the United States and elsewhere, starting at the grass roots through their political associations, community groups, religious institutions, or student organizations, the name a few, to begin to communicate loud and clear to society’s elites. ‘Enough is enough.’” (p. 91). These seven themes provide important context for why I believe it will be useful to pursue a definition of disaster as a special type of social problem. For social problems are both manifest and latent conditions of communities, regions, societies, and the entire world. The processes by which social problems are socially constructed, redressed, or unaddressed call attention to the actions of individuals, groups, and organizations at all of these levels. Historically, sociology has and must continue to play a key role in unraveling these processes. But let me be clear before proceeding. I am not proposing a consensus on values, nor am I proposing that this definition and approach are the only ones researchers should use. They are one among many that I believe will help us sort things out so that basic and badly needed theoretical work can continue. Also, I believe that this perspective opens new doors through which we should go to insure broader dissemination and use of the findings and conclusions of our work. 27 Disaster Research: Integrative Approaches and Conceptual Issues When we put disaster research into the types of social problems perspectives I summarized above, what theoretical issues are recast and illuminated? I will explore this question by briefly developing six themes: 1) contributions being ignored; 2) some basic distinctions; 3) studies of claims makers; 4) emergence of a complementary perspective; 5) disasters are a non-routine social problem; and 6) payoffs. 1. Disaster researchers have constructed a scientifically based core of knowledge which too frequently has been ignored by high level policy makers, especially during the past six years. This is not the place to review the core knowledge base that dates back to Prince’s (1920) classic study, the NORC field team reports summarized by Fritz (1961) and others (e.g., Fritz and Marks 1954), or the several reports published in the early National Academy of Sciences series (e.g., Moore et al. 1963) in which Barton’s (1963) theoretical framework first appeared (see also Barton 1969). Additional study syntheses have continued to appear over the years, including the excellent work of Dynes (1970), and those in which I have participated, e.g., Mileti, Drabek and Haas 1975, Drabek 1986, and Drabek 2004. Of course, the recently released Handbook of Disaster Research (Rodríguez et al. 2006) sets a new standard for such summaries. When asked by my former student David McEntire (in press) to identify the key contributions sociologists had made to the study of disasters, I (Drabek in press) selected these four as being most significant: 1) debunking disaster myths, e.g., Quarantelli and Dynes 1972; Fischer 1998; 2) innovations in research methods, e.g., Stallings 2002; Homan 2003; 3) extensions of sociological theory, e.g., Kreps et al. 1994; Dynes 2002, 28 2005 and 4) social criticism, e.g., Dynes 1994; Aguirre 2004. Others, of course, would highlight different aspects of this rich legacy. I might too on a different day or week, but these four areas clearly constitute significant contributions reflecting our larger and complex research legacy. Upon carefully reading the final report of the 9/11 Commission (NCTAUS 2004), I was impressed with the level of detail with which they effectively reconstructed the planning and process of the attacks and the challenges responders confronted. As I pointed out elsewhere, (Drabek 2006b, pp. 224-226), however, many of the intra and inter-agency communication and coordination difficulties paralleled those that had been documented in numerous places following other disasters (e.g., Drabek 1968, 1986). Despite pages of footnotes, the report made no mention of this prior research as Tierney (2005) underscored in her review. And while I agree with Perrow (2005) that the failure to even mention the lack of leadership at the federal level was a major shortcoming, ignoring past disaster research may have paved the way for wrong headed policy recommendations like the emphasis on implementation of the incident command system (ICS) as if this would fix everything. I’ll return to this specific issue later, but it illustrates my overall point. I also carefully reviewed three of the major policy reports completed after Hurricane Katrina by the White House staff (2006), the Select Committee of the U.S. House of Representatives (SBCIPRHK 2006), and the Homeland Security and Governmental Affairs Committee of the U.S. Senate (CHSGA 2006). The Senate report noted “a failure to act on the lessons of past catastrophes, both man-made and natural . . .” (p. I-16), but did not specify the sources of such lessons, nor even what they were in 29 specific terms. In fairness, however, I should note that the Committee did consult with and cite testimony and publications produced by several scientists focused on physical aspects of the storm, levee failure, and storm surge modeling, e.g., Ivor van Heerdeen (Deputy Director of the LSU Hurricane Center) (see pp. 4-14 through 4-16) and work by John C. Pine (Director, Disaster Science and Management, LSU) and Hassa Mashrique (Assistant Professor Research, LSU Hurricane Center) (see p. 6-23). They also reviewed in detail the simulated disaster exercise—known as “Hurricane Pam”—and highlighted some of the conclusions reported in local media outlets the year prior to Katrina, e.g., Nolan 2005 (see Chapter 8 of the Senate Report). They also noted FEMA’s failings after Hurricane Andrew and the proposals and reforms implemented thereafter (e.g., National Academy of Public Administration, 1993 and 1994) including testimony and e-mail messages from such policy oriented researchers as John Harrold (Director, Institute for Crisis, Disaster and Risk Management, George Washington University) and Herman Leonard (John F. Kennedy School of Government and Harvard Business School) (see pp. 14-17 and 14-24). Finally, they noted that, “Neither the Hurricane Pam exercise nor the resultant Southeast Louisiana Catastrophic Hurricane Plan contemplated the shelter and transportation of pets.” (p. 16-36, footnote #193) despite prior behavioral research which had documented the need for such, e.g., Health et al. 2001. These notations were the only exceptions I could find. The House Committee recognized, however, that there should be further exploration of “. . . how socioeconomic factors contributed to the experiences of those directly affected by the storm.” (p. 20) And they cited survey results published in the Natural Hazards Observer by John Barnshaw (2005). Yet, they too sometimes fell into 30 the trap of blaming the victims. “Those individuals in all states who had the means to evacuate, but did not do so, must also share the blame for the incomplete evacuation and the difficulties that followed.” (p. 103). Without referencing the disaster literature on looting, at least they recognized the differences among so-called “looters.” “In some cases, people looted stores for their survival and to diminish suffering, taking items such as food, water, clothing, flashlights, batteries, and camping supplies.” (p. 241). Fortunately, additional sociological studies will continue to illuminate these matters, e.g., Barsky et al. 2006. But will they too be ignored? You may remember that some in Congress, (e.g., Rep. Charlie Melancon and Rep. William J. Jefferson), like some academics (e.g., Natural Hazards Observer 2006, and Pastor et al. 2006, p. 40) pressed for the appointment of an Independent Katrina Commission (see “Additional Views” of the House Committee report, p. 54). Ruth and I wrote to our congressional representatives on this matter, did you? Unfortunately, to date this recommendation has fallen on deaf ears! The White House Report (2006) which emphasized “lessons learned” also ignored most of the social science literature on disasters. Yet, seventeen “. . . most critical challenges that were problematic . . .” (p. 2) were identified to serve as a backdrop for a new vision. That is, a “National Preparedness System” is to be implemented along with a “culture of preparedness.” I’ll return to these matters in the fourth section of this paper, and here only note that the 689 endnotes cited throughout the six chapters of the White House report include very few references to what most of us would consider the “standard” sociological disaster research literature, although a few historical (e.g., Vale and Campanella 2005), policy oriented (e.g., Platt 1999) and popularized works (e.g., 31 Larson 1999) were included. The single exception was reference to the text Jerry Hoetmer and I (Drabek and Hoetmer 1991) edited for the International City Management Association regarding the evolution of emergency management within the U.S.A. (e.g., see footnotes 8 and 11 in Chapter Two, p. 15). While lots of different types of other evidence could be cited, my first theme reflects two basic conclusions: 1) a significant scientifically based core of knowledge has been created by disaster and hazards researchers, and 2) during the last six years especially, this knowledge has too frequently been ignored by high level policy makers. 2. Some basic distinctions can be helpful in exploring the theoretical issues and implications inherent in a social problems perspective. Let me illustrate this point by proposing definitions for four key concepts: 1) social problem; 2) disaster; 3) hazard; and 4) terrorism. a. Social problem. Reviews of past and current texts reveal differences in how a “social problem” is defined. Most typical, however, are definitions like that proposed by Rubington and Weinberg (2003, p. 4), i.e., “. . . an alleged situation that is incompatible with the values of a significant number of people who agree that action is needed to alter the situation.” This view is implicit in the more complex definitions offered by many others such as Lauer and Lauer (2006, p. 4). Further discussion, however, usually follows regarding the subjectivity inherent in such a position. How many people must define a situation as being “incompatible”? Who “selects” the values that are to be used in making such an assessment? These questions have led some writers, like Palen (2001) to highlight an alternative position. 32 “Some sociologists say that public recognition is not crucial for an issue to be a social problem. They say that social problems are the issues identified by social scientists as those about which people should be concerned.” (p. 7). This matter was introduced years ago by Merton (1961) in the “Epilogue” of the first edition of the Merton-Nisbet (1961) social problems text. Without digressing, I must note, however, that many others made similar analyses over the years (e.g., see Mills 1943). But to stay on point, I’ll simply note the appropriateness of Merton’s chapter subtitle which was “Social Problems and Sociological Theory.” After acknowledging the difficulties deciding who might be the “judges,” Merton emphasized that “It is with the social definition of social problems as it is with other processes in society: those occupying strategic positions of authority and power of course carry more weight . . .” (p. 206). Here, as in subsequent editions (e.g., see Merton 1966, pp. 788-792), he followed with an elaboration wherein “manifest” versus “latent” social problems were differentiated. In this way he tried to provide an out from potential charges of values imposition. “Apart from manifest social problems, those objective social conditions identified by problem definers in the society as at odds with their values are latent social problems, conditions that are also at odds with values of the group but are not recognized as being so. The sociologist does not impose his values upon others when he undertakes to supply knowledge about latent social problems.” Merton 1961, p. 709). More current writers, having benefited from analyses of this issue since the 1960s, usually come down on the side of offering at least three complementary theoretical frameworks, i.e., functional, conflict, interaction (e.g., Palen 2001, pp. 13-18) which help in our understanding the public issues and private troubles of our time. 33 But the fundamental issue of value choices remains with the individual analyst or reader. Palen (2001) summarized his view as follows. “This text takes the position that it is impossible to eliminate personal values and experiences and we invariably make value judgments about which social problems are most important and what should be done about them. Both professionals and nonprofessionals alike make subjective judgments on how social problems should be solved. Everyone has biases, but sociologists make a conscious effort to try to take their own biases into consideration.” (Palen 2001, pp. 7-8). These considerations provide the context for the next three concepts. b. Disaster. I’ll return to this concept in a subsequent section, but for now let me propose this definition from Gary Kreps (1989b). Disasters are: “. . . nonrountine events in societies or their larger subsystems (e.g., regions, communities) that involve conjunctions of historical conditions and social definitions of physical harm and social disruption. Among the key defining properties of such events are length of forewarning, magnitude of impact, scope of impact, and duration of impact (Kreps 1989b, p. 219). From this theoretical position, which somewhat parallels Fritz’s definition (1961, p. 655), disasters are events of a certain type. While they may differ in terms of such key analytic criteria as length of forewarning, the operative term in the definition is “among”. There are other dimensions beyond these four listed that may, for certain research purposes, be far more significant. I’ll return to this issue later because it is extremely important (see section 6, sub-section entitled “technological disasters”). Also, these events are to be understood as conjunctions of both historical conditions and social definitions of physical harm and social disruption. Finally, there is a “nonroutine” quality about disasters that also differentiates them from other social experiences. This definition is consistent with that used by the Committee on Disaster Research in the Social Sciences (2006) which was chaired by Kreps. By using it as their 34 guidepost, they were able to skillfully integrate the key conclusions of past research and identify a complex future research agenda reflecting questions like these. “. . . in what ways are terrorist threats similar to and different from risks posed by natural and technological disasters? How has the increased salience of willful disasters shaped the emergency management system in the United States? Also how prepared are local communities and the nation as a whole for possible future attacks?” (p. 70). c. Hazard. Hazards are conditions that have the potential to harm to a community or environment (see Drabek 2004, pp. 2-5 through 2-9). Commonly, like Mileti’s (1999) excellent follow-up to the bench-setting “assessment” by White and Haas (1975), we differentiate among “classes” of these using various weather and earth science terminologies. So, we refer to “the earthquake hazard” or “the flood hazard” for a given community, region, or sometimes a nation. Thus, a hazard represents a potential, whereas a disaster references a specific event that has actually occurred. Hurricane Katrina was a disaster that reflects the overall hazard or threat defined by the potential for hurricanes in the community of New Orleans, the Gulf Coast region, and the U.S.A. While it is possible to broaden the reference, most sociologists have focused on so-called “natural” hazards ranging from floods, tornadoes, earthquakes, to frost, drought, and heat (e.g., Mileti 1999). Of growing importance, however, are the hazards reflecting various technologies ranging from nuclear power plants (e.g., Perrow 1984) to other toxic substances (e.g., Erikson 1994). As illustrated by the recent bridge collapse in Minneapolis, however, much of the nation’s entire infrastructure has not been maintained properly. Hence, our failure to invest in our rich technological applications has left many dams, bridges, sewer and water systems, and the like in a dismal state. Just like our cars 35 or our homes, all of these applications require continued reinvestments if the probabilities of disaster are to be reduced. As I will elaborate in subsequent sections, for years Quarantelli (e.g., 1987b) has pushed us to confront “the fundamental question,” i.e., “what is a disaster?” Many have addressed this question by examining various analytic criteria that differentiate among disaster events such as those noted above and others like frequency, time of day, and so on (see Dynes 1970, pp. 52-55 and Drabek 1986, pp. 22-23, 45-46). More recently, researchers like Simpson and Katirai (2006) have sorted through the literature to identify various discussions and proposals for measures and indicators of risk, hazards, and disasters. Others have noted different discussions of “taxonomic” approaches (e.g., Green and McGinnis 2002). Proposals for “structuring paradigms” vary from Quarantelli who urges that the concept of disaster be limited to “consensus” based events to Green and McGinnis (2002) who “. . . believe that three classes describe the highest order range of disaster events . . . natural disasters, human systems failures, and conflict based disasters.” (p. 4). In contrast, Erikson (1994) has proposed that events reflecting exposure, threatened or actual, to toxic substances clearly reflect “a new species of troubles.” I’ll extend this discussion momentarily to document more of the historical context of my position and its relationship to public policy, but for now the point is to underscore the diversity in viewpoints and lack of closure among disaster researchers. d. Terrorism. Terrorism is a strategy to gain political objectives by attacking civilian populations with the intent of spreading fear and intimidation. Others have used slightly different language, but this definition includes the basic themes emphasized by many (e.g., see Committee on Science and Technology for Countering Terrorism 2002, p. 36 26; Neubeck et al. 2007, p. 81; McVeigh and Wolfer 2004, p. 388; Palen 2001, p. 476). Until the attacks on 9/11, most Americans did not perceive “terrorism” as a social problem. Specific attacks, like those of 9/11, or earlier events (e.g., bombing of Pan Am Flight 103 over Lockerbie, Scotland, 1988; 1993 bombing of the World Trade Center in New York City; 1995 bombing of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal building in Oklahoma City; see Drabek 2004, Student Handout 5-3 or Waugh 2000, for listings of numerous terrorist attacks), are subsumed within the above definition of disaster. Thus, as with the disaster vs. hazard distinction, it is important to differentiate between specific events and a general strategy of conflict that historically has been used by “the weak.” While “statesponsored” terrorist acts clearly occur, it is more often a strategy adopted by those with minimal levels of political power. As Palen (2001) put it, “Terrorism is also used by aggrieved religious, ethnic, and political groups who can not see, or refuse to see, any other alternative to influencing change.” (pp. 475-476). By focusing on “soft” targets like hotels, office buildings, and other places of high population density, those using this strategy of randomized killing, expose vulnerabilities that in earlier times clearly had remained “latent” in Merton’s use of the term. Today, however, things are very different. “. . . a national survey in 2003 reported that 8 percent of Americans said they were ‘very worried’ and another 30 percent that they were ‘somewhat worried’ that they or a family member might become a victim of terrorism . . .” (Lauer and Lauer 2006, p. 416). As with other hazards, risk perceptions change and are subject to manipulation by those seeking to instill different rankings among “the social problems” confronting a society (e.g., see Jenkins 2003). 37 But there are complexities and subtleties that a social problems perspective highlights. “Just who is it that defines what constitutes a criminal act?” “How have such definitions changed over time?” Standard stuff in any social problems course. So it is with terrorism as even a Bush White House committee report emphasized, (i.e., Subcommittee on Social, Behavioral, and Economic Sciences and the Social, Behavioral and Economic Sciences Working group, both of which report to the National Science and Technology Council (NSTC) (2005) which in turn operates within the Executive Office of the President). Among their definitional observations were these. • “Consensus as to what actions define terrorism has been difficult to attain.” (p. 7) • “. . . the use of the term ‘terrorism’ may over-simplify different types of actors, warfare and motivations, encapsulating them in a single group or act so that critical variables are overlooked.” (p. 7) • “The use of the term ‘terrorist’ denies the perpetrator all claim to legitimacy within Western Culture . . .” (p. 7) • “The root causes of one terrorist action may have little in common with those of another.” (p. 7). 3. Studies of “claims-makers” help illuminate the processes whereby certain conditions, including hazards and disasters, become defined as social problems. The social construction of social problems has evolved through a series of penetrating analyses that I simply will note here. These include the pioneering work of Spector and Kitsuse (1973; 1977) who argued that fifty years of textbooks had still not generated a theory of social problems because the wrong questions were being asked. In 38 an effort to go beyond the subjective vs. objective value debate, they proposed that sociologists should focus primarily on questions that could be addressed empirically. That is, “what do people say is a social problem?” And, “how do such perceptions evolve over time?” To date, this social constructionist perspective has been applied to disaster research most effectively by Bob Stallings (1995) in his now classic study of the “earthquake risk.” He documented that many of the claims-making activities described by Spector and Kitsuse (1977), seemed to illuminate what was happening within the “earthquake establishment” (see pp. 54-60). Clearly “. . . the existence of claims-making activity justifies placing the earthquake threat in the category of phenomena labeled social problems.” (p. 196). Yet, the natural-history model of social problems only partially fit the earthquake case. A “partial” fit? Why only “partial?” According to Stallings the most important thing missing was controversy. “Currently, most of what earthquake safety advocates do on a daily basis is not at all controversial.” (p. 197). And so Stallings was forced to ask a key question: “. . . can something be a social problem without being controversial?” (p. 197). He did find, of course, some areas of conflict and controversy. But these seemed to be different somehow than those commonly associated with other social problems. “The chief difference between these and the conflicts usually associated with social problems is that they occur ‘backstage,’ out of public view. Perhaps the earthquake threat is different not because controversy is absent but because somehow it is the ‘wrong kind’ of controversy.” (Stallings 1995, p. 198). Finally, Stallings (1995) resolved these matters by proposing that the earthquake threat in the U.S.A., up to 1980 at least, was best labeled as a “partially constructed social 39 problem.” “Like organized crime in the 1960s and white collar crime in the 1980s, it remains visible to insiders but nearly invisible to those outside the earthquake establishment.” (pp. 203-204). And he identified three changes that could occur that might move the construction process along: 1) personalization (i.e., name those responsible for minimizing or distributing the risk such as “greedy developers” or “current politicians”); 2) politicization (i.e., identification of certain candidates who would support certain legislation, ballot initiatives, etc.); and 3) “presentization” (i.e., emphasis on how everyday decisions, not future ones, affect risk distribution) (see pp. 206-208). Do you see any parallels to the processes that have been operative the past few years regarding the manufacturing of the fear of terrorism? 4. A complementary perspective on disasters and hazards has emerged that incorporates insights from social problems theorists despite the misgivings and cautions of some. In the late 1960s I was invited to write a short essay on methodological issues in disaster research (Drabek 1970). This exercise caused me to question the procedures whereby units of analysis could be specified more explicitly. I saw this as necessary to establish some basis for generalization across study findings and guidance in future sample selection and study design. The issues of both internal and external validity seemed critical to me. These matters had real salience to me since many questioned the relevance of our laboratory simulation research to organizational responses to “real world” disasters (e.g., see Drabek and Haas 1969, 1967). So I proposed a simple typology to illustrate my concerns about how “. . . to integrate disaster studies into other substantive areas ranging from family and organizational studies to civil disturbances and 40 revolutions Quarantelli and Dynes 1969”. (Drabek 1970, p. 335). The typology also illustrated three types of comparative research that I believed was necessary for the knowledge accumulation process: 1) across events; 2) across societies; and 3) across groups and organizations. I envisioned a series of emergent taxonomies for both the structural units of analysis and the disaster events being selected for study so as to construct “ . . . empirically tested relationships with the universe to which they apply specified.” (Drabek 1970, p. 334). A decade later I revisited some of these issues upon receiving an invitation from Gary Kreps to prepare a paper on taxonomy for a conference designed to review his team’s analysis of “organized responses” they identified within post-disaster interviews conducted by Disaster Research Center (DRC) staff during the 1960s (see Kreps 1989d). Their data base included such disasters as the 1964 Alaska earthquake and Hurricanes Betsy (1965) and Camille (1969). In my conference paper I raised a lot of questions and proposed some future directions. Among these questions was “. . . when should a crisis event be classified as a disaster?” (Drabek 1989b, p. 319). This matter had been made more salient in my thinking by Quarantelli’s IRCD Presidential address in 1986 (Quarantelli 1987b) and a series of studies conducted by Peter Rossi and his associates (e.g., Rossi et al. 1978; Rossi et al. 1982; Wright et al. 1979; Wright and Rossi 1981). The Rossi group was highly critical of the White-Haas (1975) assessment project and a lot of other disaster-hazard research. So they had attempted to increase the rigor of their research study designs by increasing their survey sample sizes. By doing so they concluded that disasters really had little or no effect on communities. And since there was negligible impact, it was bad public policy to succumb to the lobby efforts being 41 made by those within a “growing disaster industry.” In short, a “no-effect” conclusion clearly justified a “no funds” position for either research or amelioration, be it mitigation, preparedness, or whatever. I’m over stating their position just a bit, but I clearly recall hearing such views being expressed at their conference. I was invited as a disaster researcher, but also had registered criticisms of many past studies. And I refused to be drawn into false choices by an agenda structured around “the worth” of past work be it that flowing from the “old” NORC studies, the DRC or the University of Colorado (e.g., White and Haas). So in my critique of their work (Drabek 1981), I endorsed their effort at design rigor but remained suspicious of their study sample which was comprised of too many “small scale” events. In my judgment, this is what had led them to the conclusion that disasters had “no effect.” As I put my criticism then: “Simply put, were they studying disasters?” (Drabek 1989b, p. 320). A second theme I introduced pertained to social problems. “. . . I have believed that one form of integration we should seek would be within theories of social problems (Drabek 1981).” (Drabek 1989b, p. 337). I pushed this idea very briefly by proposing that we should try to build better bridges with emergency managers and one way of doing this was to define disaster as “. . . a low-priority, nonroutine social problem. As emerging professionals, emergency managers can be helped to develop a sense of perspective and basis for interpretation by expanding upon a social problems framework.” (Drabek 1989b, p. 341). Following this conference, Kreps asked me to expand on this idea through an essay that might be included in a special issue he was editing for the International Journal of Mass Emergencies and Disasters. 42 In his introduction to this special issue Kreps (1989c) noted that this publication reflected “ . . . a resolution passed at the 1986 ISA meeting of the Research Committee on Disasters” (p. 213) which “ . . . called for a special issue devoted to the general question of the boundaries of the field.” (p. 213). As a very practical matter, as co-editor (1985-1990) of our journal (i.e., International Journal of Mass Emergencies and Disasters), I was wanting some guidance. For example, should we accept articles focused on war or other types of conflict situations? If a civil disturbance like the riots in Watts (Los Angeles area of California) was relevant to our readership, what about a riot within a prison? In the opening essay Kreps (1989c), explained that he would elaborate on “. . . my thoughts on the boundaries question and what I see as the essential role of taxonomy in disaster research.” (p. 213). In his article, Kreps (1989b) addressed the question “What is a disaster?” and proceeded to lay out a rigorous approach whereby future taxonomic work could lead to a series of schema whereby multiple taxonomies could be used to aggregate past findings and guide the design of new comparative studies (see pp. 230231). He then referenced my earlier work (e.g., Drabek 1981) and explicitly claimed “. . . disasters are nonroutine social problems” (p. 233). He then elaborated briefly on these ideas and concluded with a statement with which I was and remain in full agreement. “I am certain that a cooperative dialogue based on mutual respect for competing epistemologies is the path to scientific progress in disaster research. I hope this exchange serves an example of what is needed.” (Kreps 1989a, p. 280). In that same issue, Quarantelli (1989) began his essay with this statement. “The question of a taxonomy of disaster research cannot be addressed meaningfully until some sort of answer is given to the more fundamental issue: What is a disaster?” He then elaborated by suggesting that Kreps’s argument was inadequate because “ . . . Kreps is 43 operating with common sense notions of social problems—namely, something happens that disrupts people.” (p. 249). Furthermore, “. . . except for a few disaster researchers, other sociologists apparently do not see disasters as social problems.” (p. 249). Finally, toward the end of his essay Quarantelli (1989) proposed: “Disasters are better seen as part of social change dynamics than as nonroutine social problems.” (p. 249). Why? Why would a “social change dynamics” perspective be better? Quarantelli proposed several reasons including the basic and very important idea that this would insure that disasters would “. . . be seen as an integral part of what usually goes on in the social structure, rather than as an external intrusion from the outside . . .” (p. 250). I, however, would propose that this is one of the very reasons why I believe a social problems perspective is so useful. He also registered another concern which I addressed above, that is, the issue of bias. “A social change emphasis also avoids the extreme relativism and the ideological bias inherent in any social problem approach, along with accepting elite views of what constitutes problems (that researchers sometime act as surrogates for political and economic elites may partly disguise but does not circumvent the issue).” (Quarantelli 1989, p. 250). Quarantelli (1998) continued to push all of us to address this fundamental question through a compilation of essays that revealed varied answers, perspectives, and orientations. As he first did in his “Presidential Address”, back in 1986, he forced us to think hard about the assumptions we were making when we casually tossed around terms like “natural disasters” and started to generalize to other social situations like civil disturbances or war (Quarantelli 1987b). Most recently, he teamed with Ron Perry (2005) to edit another round of essays and reactions and reactions to the reactions, in and effort to press us even harder. As I read these, I found myself in agreement with Perry 44 that too often “. . . disaster researchers are spending more time talking past one another than talking to one another.” (Perry 2005, p. 315). And while I might prefer a more complex system, hence the term taxonomy rather than typology, I am in full agreement with Ron’s conclusion that empirically documented instances of inconsistency, e.g., absence or presence of looting behavior, requires “ . . . a system of classifying occasions that enables understanding and meaningful interpretation of such disparities.” (Perry 2005, p. 315). I also noted the definition Bob Stallings recommended that incorporated a portion of that proposed by Kreps and I, i.e., nonroutine. Hence, “A disaster is a social situation characterized by nonroutine, life-threatening physical destruction attributed to the forces of nature, regardless of what other causal factors may seem to be involved (italics in original) (Stallings 2005, p. 263). Where we disagree, however, is the boundary implied by “forces of nature” and no reference to social problems. I was, however, glad to see that others, especially Smith (2005), underscored the importance of highlighting the nonroutine nature of disasters (p. 288). In contrast, Barton (2005) identified direct parallels to the integrative power of his concept of “collective stress” and the frameworks used by social problems analysts. “Using the concept of ‘collective stress’ to examine a wide range of situations of large-scale deprivation varying on several dimensions, with ‘local physical disaster’ as one subtype, raises important theoretical questions and points to a wide range of empirical cases from which to learn answers. The wider concept relates the problems of preventing, mitigating, and coping with physical disasters to the general field of social problems and the means by which societies deal or fail to deal with them.” (Barton 2005, p. 151). Quarantelli’s (2005) concluding essay covered a lot of ground that provided much food for thought. Regarding the need for classification system, or maybe systems in my 45 view, he referred back to a distinction he made in his 1987 article, i.e., genotype versus phenotype. “Essentially making this distinction argues that less obvious or visible characteristics are far more important than surface features. Our prediction is that our eventual new paradigm will involve far more genotypical rather than phenotypical features we now almost exclusively use.” (Quarantelli 2005, p. 341). This parallels a view he expressed previously regarding the whether or not reactions to military attack involving nuclear bombs would parallel those following natural disasters. “. . . if people are asked to evacuate from a certain area, whether the impetus for the evacuation is radiation fallout or a hurricane doesn’t matter. However, people are only going to accept certain warnings as legitimate. But fundamentally, we thought that a nuclear attack was qualitatively different from any other situation. Therefore, we could not say to what degree the response to a nuclear attack or a hurricane would be similar.” (Quarantelli 2004b, p. 325). See why the issue of generalizability is so important for both disaster theory and policy? Stallings (2006b) has elaborated on both the importance and complexity of this issue for both cross-event and within event comparisons. Analyses like his reflect the type of hard work required to push the field further (see especially pp. 62-65 and 67-71). Finally, Quarantelli (2005) again noted his preference for a “social change approach” which “. . . would force us to consider the more positive aspects of disasters (all but impossible to consider in a social problem context that focuses on the negative).” (p. 353). As this issue has begun to sensitize researchers, more comparative work will help us better identify similarities and differences in a wide variety of non-intentional versus intentional disaster agents like war situations. As noted by the Committee on Disaster 46 Research in the Social Sciences (2006, pp. 10-19), comparative historical research on the policy developments that follow major events provides an empirical pathway toward understanding how social definitions emerge and public policy evolves (e.g., see also Rubin 2007 and Birkland 2006, 1997). Another good example of the level of specificity required to pursue this task is Kirschenbaum’s (2006) analysis of family preparedness activities. It turns out that while there are certain similarities, within his Israeli data base at least, conditions of intentional conflict like war, may require explanatory models that differ significantly from those documented for earthquakes and other natural hazards. But there is more to this issue than just intentionality or conflict as differentiating concepts. Clarke’s (2006) insights are most informative and should be considered carefully by all disaster researchers. For example, in contrast to our emphasis on the post-event emergence of an altruistic community, which does have a clear empirical basis, he appropriately questions the limits of this conclusion. Sure it does fit hundreds of cases studied thus far, but what if London, for example, were hit by surprise? What might be the relevance of the altruistic community conclusion from the macro level view of the world system? “What, after all could Zimbabwe really do to help England recover? . . . the response wouldn’t be uniform even within the United States. The religious right would probably say Londoners brought it on themselves; it was divine retribution for sinful behavior. Russia could do little.” (Clarke 2006, p. 176). “I don’t mean to sound coldhearted, but if we’re really going to think smartly and imagine well about worst cases we have to be honest about political realities. The happy conclusion of disaster researchers—that altruistic communities form after calamity—has limits.” (Clarke 2006, p. 177). 47 Of course, Quarantelli may well be right in his objections to efforts to link disaster studies to those of other social problems. But I believe there is room for multiple approaches at this point in the development of the field. So let’s examine an alternative. 5. Disasters are a nonroutine social problem. In 1992 Russ Dynes sent a draft paper to me which was the basis for remarks he made at a conference in Spain on the uses of sociological research (see Dynes 1992). He asked for reactions and additional examples that might be incorporated into a future article for publication. I found his basic argument interesting, of course, and after several exchanges we decided to co-author a new draft wherein we summarized a few key sociological findings and their policy impacts (Dynes and Drabek 1994). “The consequences of the research tradition has been to transform policy approaches to disaster. That transformation has been most complete in the United States, but, in general, those policy changes have also had other national and international implications. In the United States, responsibility for disaster was ‘demilitarized’. At the national level, this has meant pulling together diffuse functions to create a Federal Emergency Management Agency with responsibility for ‘comprehensive’ emergency management. An all hazards approach is emphasized conceptually which can be implemented through the development of integrated emergency management systems within local communities.” (Dynes and Drabek 1994, p. 15). We then looked toward the future and began by summarizing an insightful paper by Quarantelli (1991) regarding various social trends that in his judgment would “. . . produce more and worst disasters.” (p. 18). The nine trends we selected from his paper emphasized technological and population changes that jointly increased vulnerability. For example, we summarized Quarantelli’s conclusion that “more vulnerable kinds of populations will be impacted, e.g., in many areas such as Florida in the U.S., new 48 retirement communities and large concentrations of tourists are particularly vulnerable to hurricanes.” (p. 19). After listing these trends, we quoted his conclusion because we were in complete agreement. “‘It is that solutions are not to be found primarily in new technologies or better use of existing ones. The difficulties note stem from social factors. Social problems can only be dealt with socially; technological improvements can only address technological problems.’” (p. 27, in Quarantelli 1991)) (as quoted in Dynes and Drabek 1994, p. 19). Quarantelli’s use of the concept of social problems in this context reminded me of his earlier objections to the position I had advanced previously. But that was not the specific point Dynes and I were trying to develop. Rather, beyond Quarantelli’s analysis, we saw the need to place disaster research within a much broader theoretical perspective. We illustrated this by noting Smelser’s (1991) analysis of three large scale “master trends” from which additional types of changes could be identified. Among the eight we specified was that “. . . social problems will become increasingly internationalized” and that not only would there be “. . . a continuation of widespread problems of chronic instability” but also a “. . . continuing erosion of traditional forms of social stability.” (Dynes and Drabek 1994, pp. 19-20). Among the several points made in our brief conclusion that are most relevant to my analysis here are these. “As the profession of emergency management matures and disaster researchers are pressed to specify the limits of generalizability of increased numbers of localized data bases, higher priority will be given to more fundamental questions: How and why do societies differ in their coping responses to risk? What social constraints pattern the differential distribution of risk, both temporally and globally, as new policy initiatives are implemented that are intended to mitigate disaster impacts and 49 improve disaster preparedness, response and recovery?” Drabek 1994, p. 21). (Dynes and While not very extensive, we believed that the empirical base and theoretical orientations flowing from disaster and hazard researchers “. . . had a rather profound effect on public policy.” (Dynes and Drabek 1994, p. 21). But the types of issues emerging on the horizon would require that disaster researchers and emergency managers “. . . look toward the discipline of sociology for relevant theoretical paradigms.” (Dynes and Drabek 1994, p. 21). So we ended on a note of caution regarding the future of sociology and its potential contribution to the emerging profession of emergency management.” “A new partnership may emerge that could prove to be mutually beneficial. To the extent that the discipline fragments substantively, stagnates intellectually and withers politically, it will fail to provide the insights needed.” (Dynes and Drabek 1994, p. 21). About a year after this piece was published, Gary Kreps asked me to co-author an elaboration of my 1989a article which we entitled “Disasters Are Nonroutine Social Problems.” (Kreps and Drabek 1996). Therein we advanced our case by pointing out that the “. . . phase ‘nonroutine events’ distinguishes disasters as unusual and dramatic social happenings from the reservoir of everyday routines and concerns . . .” (p. 133). Furthermore we emphasized how our “. . . reference to ‘historical conditions’ and ‘social definitions’ underscores the need to understand how social definitions of disaster emerge and the mix of competing definitions that may be involved.” (p. 134). Finally, we illustrated how the threshold of social disruption and physical harm must be linked to the complexity of the system selected for study, e.g., family versus community, and be 50 socially defined. (p. 134). On this last point we were underscoring the wisdom implicit within Barton’s (1969) collective stress perspective. From our vantage point, however, the work of social constructionists, like the Stallings (1995) study, complemented the approach we proposed. Using the controversy noted above regarding the conference organized by Wright and Rossi (1981), we argued that “. . . the false dualism advocated by some functionalists and many social constructionists . . .” (p. 139) was a pitfall that should be avoided. Rather, both the objective aspects of disaster highlighted by functionalists and the claims-making activities studied by social constructionist types should be included in the future research agenda. Kreps (2001) elaborated on these themes in his entry entitled “Disasters, Sociology of” for the International Encyclopedia of the Social and Behavioral Sciences. Unlike poverty, he proposed, disaster events can be demarcated in social time and space. Generally speaking, however, disasters remain a low priority for local officials and the public because the probability of impact is low. When certain triggering events occur, however, the perception of risk distribution may be redefined by key interest groups thereby permitting temporary acceptance of selected preparedness and/or mitigative actions like the airport security changes after the 9/11 attacks. In short, “. . . disasters are nonroutine problems because social processes related to them change dramatically, depending on what stage of their life histories is being considered.” (Kreps 2001, p. 3719). In my opinion he has it exactly right. 6. There are many payoffs to approaching disasters as nonroutine social problems. 51 Careful reading of the works cited above could produce a longer listing, but here I will highlight six of the most important. a. Historical context. Social problems require that the subject matter, including disasters, be placed within their historical context. In his review of five recent books on disaster, Stallings (2006a) illustrated this by starting his essay with a summary of Dynes’s (2000) analysis of the 1755 Lisbon earthquake wherein the local government, for the first time, “. . . wrested power from the church and assumed primary responsibility for response, recovery, and rebuilding.” (Stallings 2006a, p. 223). Thus, when Hurricane Katrina made landfall in August 2005, “. . . the cultural repertoire of causal explanations for disasters had grown considerably.” (p. 223). b. Root causes. Social problems perspectives push analysts to dig deeper so as to identify root causes. Thus, the responses during Katrina, for example, surprised some. But the underlying patterns of racism, sexism, ageism, and classism that I noted above, reflected pre-event patterns of vulnerability. The concept of vulnerability offers much to the study of social problems, including disasters, e.g., McEntire 2004; Enarson et al. 2003; Wisner et al. 2003; Bolin 2006; Enarson et al. 2006. Rodríguez and Barnshaw (2006) illustrated this nicely in their review essay which included At Risk (Wisner et al. 2003). “The authors argue that a number of variables, including ‘class . . . occupation, caste, ethnicity, gender, disability, health status, age, immigration status’ and the ‘nature and extent of social networks’ (p. 11) impact disaster vulnerability. . . . The authors also discuss how factors such as wars, national debts, famines, droughts, illness, and urbanization place people at risk, increase their vulnerability, and makes the disaster recovery process extremely difficult.” (Rodríguez and Barnshaw 2006, p. 220). 52 Similarly, Quarantelli (2005) has proposed that disasters “. . . are overt manifestations of latent social vulnerabilities, basically of weaknesses in social structures or soc...
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