The collapse of the I 35W Bridge in Minnesota ( couldn't they come up with a more creative name?) was an ideal disaster for the media. It was a dramatic event that occurred on the verge of prime time, provided many eye-popping visual images, and perhaps most importantly, had that ineluctable that-could-have-been-me quality that makes some disasters so memorable.
When the initial epinephrine rush had faded, reporters pursued the story-after-the-story: How many other bridges in the United States are in danger of collapsing like the I 35W? The answer was, unfortunately but predictably, more than one would think. In some circles, especially in the liberal channels, the story set off a cycle of panic -- our nation is falling apart, this is the fault of the tax cutting Republicans, we should be spending money on our roads and not on the war in Iraq.
Some of this may be true, some exaggerated, but despite the usual hype there is real value in this story. Very rarely do we hear public debate about mundane topics like infrastructure. Rarely do we see famous investigative reporters rooting through inspection reports and breathlessly battling to interview civil engineers. Before last week, no one cared about public documents indicating that Bridge 9340 shows signs of fatigue. Today is a different day. For the moment, we will hear a whole lot about how bridges are inspected and how much money is being spent to fix them. At least until another Hollywood actress is caught driving drunk.
One interesting wrinkle in this story is how quickly commentators linked the I 35W bridge failure to the failure of New Orleans levees during Hurricane Katrina. Not that the connection was difficult to make. Both events were unexpected catastrophic failures of major public construction projects. One bridge collapse makes one data point, but a bridge plus a levee makes two data points, and therefore a trend. Since both Minneapolis and New Orleans lie on the Mississippi River, we have even more than a mere trend -- we have data point symmetry. Nothing makes an argument stronger than two data points that rhyme. (As a famous New Orleanian once argued, "If the glove don't fit, you must acquit.")
I am giving myself credit that I cannot prove I deserve, but not long after Hurricane Katrina I wondered about America's bridges. I realized that my home filled up with 12 feet of water mostly because I trusted that the levees would hold. Before Katrina, I did not give much thought to the levees. They had always been there and had, in my experience, never broken. By extension I wondered: What other public works projects do we trust for no particular reason? If a levee can collapse under the stress of a hurricane, perhaps a bridge could collapse in rush hour. I know, you don't believe I thought that then, but I did.
Before Katrina, few New Orleanians knew the first thing about storm protection. Two days before the storm landed, I recall a radio interview of the St. Bernard Parish President about the levee protection in St. Bernard (the municipality where I used to live). The Parish President told a news reporter that the levees in the area are supposed to be 17 feet, but that he and a few others had done a quick pre-storm inspection and found that in many areas the levees had sunk to a height of 14 feet. That statement, delivered so matter-of-factly, was the single most important reason that I decided to evacuate for Katrina. I was amazed to learn, even as Katrina bore down upon us, that the levees around St. Bernard Parish were lower than I thought (I had assumed they were the same height as the levees that fronted the Mississippi River, which were 23 feet), and moreover, that they were not well taken care of. What fool, I wondered, would allow a 17-foot levee to sink 3 feet and not bother to do anything about it? Didn't anyone think this was important? And why were the levees in St. Bernard 5 feet shorter than the levees on the river in the first place? And finally, why didn't anyone bother to inspect the levees before there was a hurricane in the Gulf of Mexico, when there was still time to do something about this? For the same reason, I suppose, no one cared about the inspection reports of bridges in Minnesota. We just all assumed the people in charge knew what they were doing.
When I moved into St. Bernard in 2001, I asked a few questions about flooding. I was told that the street I lived on had never flooded in its 30 year-history. That my house was in a high area, above sea level and therefore not prone to flooding. I did not look into the matter any further. If this seems curious to you, ask yourself if you have viewed any of the inspection reports for any of the bridges you cross to get to work. That's what I thought.
The truth is that we make most of our personal decisions, even life and death ones, based on herd mentality. The reason we trust bridges is not because we have proof that they are strong, but because everyone else trusts them. Driving on the interstate at 60 mph, we assume that if the car in front of us is unafraid to cross a bridge, the bridge must be safe for us too.
The same was true for me and the levees. I trusted them because everyone else did. I looked around my neighborhood and saw hundreds of people living without fear of catastrophic flood. Unconsciously I concluded that if they were not worrying, there was no reason for me to worry. We all employ this mode of thinking from time to time in life, and it serves us very well, at least until it doesn't.
After the storm, I gave much thought to the ignorance of New Orleanians about their flood protection system. About how few citizens knew anything about levee protection or drainage systems. We trusted that it would all be taken care of. There were professionals in charge who were paid to make sure nothing failed. Nothing to worry about.
Obviously, there is no way we can know everything about every system that we depend on. We aren't all chemical engineers, or civil engineers, or doctors, or lawyers, or school teachers. But we should be paying attention to people in the business who know better and are telling us something is wrong. We should be creating a public environment in which concerned experts can voice their criticisms, and know that they will be taken seriously. It is very discouraging for an expert when a heartfelt warning is met with deathly silence. This, however, is the norm. The American Society of Civil Engineers issued a report in 2005 giving the overall infrastructure in America a grade of D. Bridges got a C grade. Remember that report when it came out? Me neither.
Many doctors I know (myself included) think the health insurance system in the United States is terrible. That should matter a lot. But no one seems to pay enough attention. Just as no one pays enough attention to civil engineers who are concerned about our bridges. The worst of all this is that the only reason we don't care is because no one else cares. The herd mentality. All must be well if no one else is worried.
I am not saying that we need to panic over one fallen bridge and one negative report. But we should listen to people who are telling us that all is not well. After all, the reason we do not worry is that no one else is worried, and this is no reason at all. Better to be concerned because an expert tells us we should, than to trust the instincts of our neighbors who know nothing more than we do.
When the initial epinephrine rush had faded, reporters pursued the story-after-the-story: How many other bridges in the United States are in danger of collapsing like the I 35W? The answer was, unfortunately but predictably, more than one would think. In some circles, especially in the liberal channels, the story set off a cycle of panic -- our nation is falling apart, this is the fault of the tax cutting Republicans, we should be spending money on our roads and not on the war in Iraq.
Some of this may be true, some exaggerated, but despite the usual hype there is real value in this story. Very rarely do we hear public debate about mundane topics like infrastructure. Rarely do we see famous investigative reporters rooting through inspection reports and breathlessly battling to interview civil engineers. Before last week, no one cared about public documents indicating that Bridge 9340 shows signs of fatigue. Today is a different day. For the moment, we will hear a whole lot about how bridges are inspected and how much money is being spent to fix them. At least until another Hollywood actress is caught driving drunk.
One interesting wrinkle in this story is how quickly commentators linked the I 35W bridge failure to the failure of New Orleans levees during Hurricane Katrina. Not that the connection was difficult to make. Both events were unexpected catastrophic failures of major public construction projects. One bridge collapse makes one data point, but a bridge plus a levee makes two data points, and therefore a trend. Since both Minneapolis and New Orleans lie on the Mississippi River, we have even more than a mere trend -- we have data point symmetry. Nothing makes an argument stronger than two data points that rhyme. (As a famous New Orleanian once argued, "If the glove don't fit, you must acquit.")
I am giving myself credit that I cannot prove I deserve, but not long after Hurricane Katrina I wondered about America's bridges. I realized that my home filled up with 12 feet of water mostly because I trusted that the levees would hold. Before Katrina, I did not give much thought to the levees. They had always been there and had, in my experience, never broken. By extension I wondered: What other public works projects do we trust for no particular reason? If a levee can collapse under the stress of a hurricane, perhaps a bridge could collapse in rush hour. I know, you don't believe I thought that then, but I did.
Before Katrina, few New Orleanians knew the first thing about storm protection. Two days before the storm landed, I recall a radio interview of the St. Bernard Parish President about the levee protection in St. Bernard (the municipality where I used to live). The Parish President told a news reporter that the levees in the area are supposed to be 17 feet, but that he and a few others had done a quick pre-storm inspection and found that in many areas the levees had sunk to a height of 14 feet. That statement, delivered so matter-of-factly, was the single most important reason that I decided to evacuate for Katrina. I was amazed to learn, even as Katrina bore down upon us, that the levees around St. Bernard Parish were lower than I thought (I had assumed they were the same height as the levees that fronted the Mississippi River, which were 23 feet), and moreover, that they were not well taken care of. What fool, I wondered, would allow a 17-foot levee to sink 3 feet and not bother to do anything about it? Didn't anyone think this was important? And why were the levees in St. Bernard 5 feet shorter than the levees on the river in the first place? And finally, why didn't anyone bother to inspect the levees before there was a hurricane in the Gulf of Mexico, when there was still time to do something about this? For the same reason, I suppose, no one cared about the inspection reports of bridges in Minnesota. We just all assumed the people in charge knew what they were doing.
When I moved into St. Bernard in 2001, I asked a few questions about flooding. I was told that the street I lived on had never flooded in its 30 year-history. That my house was in a high area, above sea level and therefore not prone to flooding. I did not look into the matter any further. If this seems curious to you, ask yourself if you have viewed any of the inspection reports for any of the bridges you cross to get to work. That's what I thought.
The truth is that we make most of our personal decisions, even life and death ones, based on herd mentality. The reason we trust bridges is not because we have proof that they are strong, but because everyone else trusts them. Driving on the interstate at 60 mph, we assume that if the car in front of us is unafraid to cross a bridge, the bridge must be safe for us too.
The same was true for me and the levees. I trusted them because everyone else did. I looked around my neighborhood and saw hundreds of people living without fear of catastrophic flood. Unconsciously I concluded that if they were not worrying, there was no reason for me to worry. We all employ this mode of thinking from time to time in life, and it serves us very well, at least until it doesn't.
After the storm, I gave much thought to the ignorance of New Orleanians about their flood protection system. About how few citizens knew anything about levee protection or drainage systems. We trusted that it would all be taken care of. There were professionals in charge who were paid to make sure nothing failed. Nothing to worry about.
Obviously, there is no way we can know everything about every system that we depend on. We aren't all chemical engineers, or civil engineers, or doctors, or lawyers, or school teachers. But we should be paying attention to people in the business who know better and are telling us something is wrong. We should be creating a public environment in which concerned experts can voice their criticisms, and know that they will be taken seriously. It is very discouraging for an expert when a heartfelt warning is met with deathly silence. This, however, is the norm. The American Society of Civil Engineers issued a report in 2005 giving the overall infrastructure in America a grade of D. Bridges got a C grade. Remember that report when it came out? Me neither.
Many doctors I know (myself included) think the health insurance system in the United States is terrible. That should matter a lot. But no one seems to pay enough attention. Just as no one pays enough attention to civil engineers who are concerned about our bridges. The worst of all this is that the only reason we don't care is because no one else cares. The herd mentality. All must be well if no one else is worried.
I am not saying that we need to panic over one fallen bridge and one negative report. But we should listen to people who are telling us that all is not well. After all, the reason we do not worry is that no one else is worried, and this is no reason at all. Better to be concerned because an expert tells us we should, than to trust the instincts of our neighbors who know nothing more than we do.