Hi there,
The slow pace and gray days accompanying January have made me reflect on where I want to take Futurisk this year.
Last year, I had as a goal to write every month (first on Medium, then here), which I stuck to, except for June when I took my European duty of vacationing very seriously and fully disconnected! I like the accountability of writing every month. It keeps me on track, especially as I recognize the boost of energy that consumes me when an idea sparks, but also the focus I lose as the novelty of it fades over time.
Battling my urge to fulfill obligations (which 99% of the time are self-imposed!), on the one hand, with the competing priorities that make up life on the other, I have decided to make room for more flexibility and creativity this year. Most of all, I want to keep this process fun and not turn it into just another to-do item. Writing that way wouldn’t be fun, and I’m sure it’d be even less fun to read!
Copying a page from Adam Grant’s book, I may start sharing more personal details. As someone who is married to a filmmaker whose work revolves around portraying the behind-the-scenes of people’s lives and whose favorite book genre is autobiographies, getting a glimpse into someone’s inner life and thoughts has always made me more keen to read their work, so why not try it out?
I’m grateful to have found a meaningful career in emergency management, and I love connecting it to what’s currently happening in the global order and on the climate front, but I also want to make room for experimentation.
So, all that to say, different stories, different formats, and different frequencies may shape this newsletter moving forward. As always, thank you for taking the time to read and follow along!
Yours,
Lorraine
Recent events have made me ask myself:
What is emergency management without journalism?
First, I read this in-depth account by ProPublica reporter Seth Freed Wessler on the plight of unaccompanied Haitian children attempting to reach the United States. It details the perilous journeys they undertake and the harsh conditions they experience. The Coast Guard apprehends many of these children and, more often than not, repatriates them home as part of their maritime border patrol operations.
Wessler poignantly portrays two lives colliding on board a cutter just off the coast of Florida. One is Tcherry, a 10-year-old looking to reunite with his mother, whom he hasn’t seen in years, in Toronto, and the other is Chief Petty Officer Timothy James, a conservative from South Carolina who joined the Coast Guard in 2015 with the goal to “‘chase down drug runners and catch migrants’ — two groups that were more or less the same, as far as he understood.”
Within weeks of starting his job, his worldview shifted.
There were children and grandmothers who could have been his own, and young men not so unlike him. They were not trying to infiltrate the country as he’d thought. They were running because “they didn’t have another option,” he says.
There is no happy ending to Tcherry’s story. But the delicate reporting makes this lengthy read worthwhile.
In a world constantly drawn to simplify the complex, it is vital to highlight the shades of gray that surround most issues.
It’s what leads us to think, feel, and question. And it determines our words and actions.
Good journalism serves three crucial functions for emergency managers:
First, it offers accurate and timely information. Reliable journalists act as watchdogs, uncovering potential threats, investigating hazards, and verifying information during disasters. This allows emergency managers to make informed decisions based on factual data, not rumors or misinformation.
Second, it delivers effective communication with the public. Journalists help disseminate vital safety instructions, evacuation orders, and updates during crises. Their ability to reach broad audiences quickly and clearly can save lives and minimize panic.
Thirdly, journalists hold emergency managers —or rather their superiors with the actual decision-making power (mayors, CEOs…)— accountable by questioning their decisions and reporting on their response effectiveness, all in the hopes of improving future practices.
So, why does this matter?
The news industry is in sharp decline. In recent weeks, major publications across the country have laid off large portions of their staff. Business Insider, TIME, Sports Illustrated and the Los Angeles Times are among the publications that have downsized their editorial staff by as much as 20% in response to the loss of advertising revenue, with more layoffs anticipated at other journalistic outlets.
During the Covid-19 pandemic, all of us witnessed firsthand the fatal repercussions misinformation and disinformation can have.
We continue to see it with every new conflict and every new major disaster.
The free fall of the news industry is a source of even greater concern in the biggest global election year in history, especially with democracy at risk.
Emergency management without journalism would be like navigating a storm in the dark. Blind decision-making, ineffective communication and reduced accountability would lead to slower and less effective emergency response, public confusion and panic, and erosion of trust.
Looking ahead, emergency managers must sharpen their tools to weather the storm. Some steps to prepare include:
Increasing the effective use of official channels and platforms for public advisories and updates to promote direct government communication. This step alone requires more funding, training, innovation and creativity.
Enhanced leveraging of real-time data from sensors, monitoring systems, and social media to track situations and inform decisions.
Strengthening relationships with community leaders and organizations for local information gathering and outreach.
Finally, last week, I got to attend a fireside chat with Yaroslav Trofimov, author of "Our Enemies Will Vanish" and chief foreign affairs correspondent at The Wall Street Journal. Mr. Trofimov shared firsthand experiences of the front lines in Ukraine, connecting the dots between Russia's invasion and its global repercussions.
The conversation jumped from the topic of morality to history to war tactics to resilience.
And that evening it is the parting words of Dr. Jerrold D. Green, the President & CEO of the Pacific Council on International Policy, that best encapsulated the monumental gift Mr. Trofimov and his peers give to the world.
“Thank you for your service.”