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Showing posts with label catastrophe. Show all posts
Showing posts with label catastrophe. Show all posts

Thursday, August 27, 2026

Degrees of Separation

   


 

The film of the catastrophic flash flood in Nepal is horrific, and the likely casualty rate is likely to be high, so many people are still unaccounted for.  The immediacy of the films brings home the casual brutality of Nature, and the ease with which a whole way of life can be brushed aside in moments.  But this is a disaster in Nepal, a far distant country from my placid residence next to the Med in Castelldefels.

     That ‘distance’ was obliterated when I greeted a friend after completing my morning swim.  I asked after his ‘aches and pains’ as he has been having muscular trouble, but he rejected my questions and asked if I had seen the film of the flood.  I told him I had and he then told me that this was a place he knew.  He had worked there, he knew people who lived there, he had seen pictures of a building that had been his administrative centre being destroyed in images that he had been sent which had not been seen on TV.

     Suddenly, a distant disaster was humanized and localized, I was speaking to someone who had knowledge of and a stake in what had been lost.

     Life goes on.  He was, after all, preparing to have a swim, as he does most days, but his mind was not centred on getting a good lane in the pool to himself.  It was a long way away.

     This event has forced my mind back to something more local, the Valencia DANA (Depresión Aislada en Niveles Altos), an isolated high-impact depression, which is a meteorological phenomenon characterized by extreme weather events, particularly in regions like the Mediterranean Sea basin.

     An abstract from a report by members of the University of Valencia sums up the disaster:

 

The unprecedented DANA floods that struck Valencia, Spain on October 29, 2024, caused catastrophic human, economic, and ecological damages, resulting in 223 fatalities, the displacement of 15,000 residents, and long-term health and environmental consequences and incurred financial losses estimated over 50 billion euros. Vulnerabilities in urban planning, ambiguous command and control oversight, delayed warnings, and insufficient preparedness underscored systemic gaps in the flood preparedness and management.

 

     The key concepts are found in the last sentence, and the apportioning of blame is ongoing.  The President of Valencia, Carlos Mazón, was widely condemned for his lack of urgency in the early stages of the disaster, but he took over a year ignoring repeated calls for him to go, for him finally to resign.

     In the immediate aftermath of a disaster attention is rightly focussed on rescue and reconstruction.  But almost as important are the efforts made to understand exactly what occurred, and how the disaster was dealt with, in other words, looking for lessons to try and ensure that the disaster is not repeated.

     In the case of the DANA in Valencia, politics and self-interest have complicated the issues.  In extraordinary scenes on November 3rd, a few days after the tragedy, the King and Queen of Spain, accompanied by high-ranking officials were pelted with mud and met with cries of “Murderers!” when they visited Paiporta, one of the municipalities worst affected by the floods.

     In May in 2025 a delegation of family member victims of the DANA went to the EU in Brussels to demand truth, justice and accountability as they felt that the response of the administration in Valencia and in Madrid had been wholly inadequate.  They stressed that they were there, “not for revenge, but for truth and justice.”  One of their leaders said, “We are not here out of pity.  We are here because we have the right to know why our children, parents, siblings died, and to know who had the duty to protect them and failed.”

     In the Grenfell tower disaster, I am reminded of Conservative peer, Lord Pickles, who, when he was Secretary of State for Communities and Local Government, his department was directly responsible for housing policy, building regulation and fire safety guidance.  In Cameron’s government, Pickles enthusiastically championed a “one in, one out” (and later “one in, two out”) rule to slash building regulations and bureaucracy, thus compromising officials from tightening laws on combustible building materials.

     While he was being questioned, giving evidence in the Inquiry, he suggested that the Inquiry’s senior counsel should speed up his questioning because had had important afternoon meetings planned.  An astonishing piece of disrespect, though a revealing insight into his assumed importance.

     The final report of the inquiry he was heavily criticized.  He is still a member of the House of Lords and The Conservative Party.

     Too often there is no real end to a disaster.  Lives are lost, destruction is widespread and things are never really the same again.  And to make matters worse, the follow up in trying to understand what happened and why is too often muddied by politics, money and self-interest.

     The probable cause of the flash flood in Nepal was the lower part of a Himalayan glacier breaking off and crashing hundreds of meters onto the valley floor.  The massive impact generated ground energy equivalent to a 5.2-magnitude earthquake.  As the giant cascade of ice, mud, and rock raced down the steep valley, friction heating melted large volumes of the ice into water.  The debris temporarily blocked local rivers creating an intense buildup of water and sediment that catastrophically burst downstream as a high-speed flash flood.

     Why this happened may well include the fact that the event coincided with the monsoon season, meaning surrounding sediment and soil were already waterlogged and easily swept up.  Climate change means that the rising temperatures in the Himalayan region can destabilize glaciers and weaken mountain rock, leading to such extreme ice avalanches.

     Explanation.  Reconstruction.  Prevention.  Easy words to type, it remains to be seen how the authorities and the world respond.

    

    

Sunday, March 29, 2020

LOCKDOWN CASTELLDEFELS - DAY 14






The latest figures for the dead in Spain from Covid-19 in a twenty-four hour period are 832.  This is the highest figure of for a day’s deaths in Spain.  This is a catastrophe, and a catastrophe that people here are saying is partially of the government’s making.

   Last night the Prime Minister of Spain went on television and informed the country that there were going to be far more stringent restrictions from next Monday.  For a two-week period taking in Holy Week there will be a total ban on all non-essential travel and all non-essential premises will be shut down.

     It remains to be seen whether the renovators next door who have been (and are as I type) working normally and entering and leaving the workplace as if there was no crisis, will finally knuckle under and obey the restrictions.  These people are perhaps symptomatic of the problem, where some consider themselves outside the range of restrictions that are in place already. 

     The advice is simple: stay in your homes and wash your hands.  And it is frustrating when some people ignore it so openly.



Every evening at 8.00 pm there is the opportunity to show our appreciation for the Health Workers.  I open the kitchen window and clap into the darkness and hear others clapping too.  It is a moment of collective assertion of thanks and a poignant moment of community when we isolates are linked by a small but sincere gesture of thanks for the incredible job that our health workers are doing in circumstances that are less than ideal.

     I am still haunted by pictures of ill patients in Madrid hospitals laying on blankets in corridors; blankets! not even trolleys.  We have been told that many front-line health workers have not been tested; they do not have masks or the appropriate equipment to protect themselves from the virus; some are making their own protective clothing out of plastic bags; the hospitals in Madrid are overwhelmed; there are insufficient ventilators, and so on, and on.  Numbers of health workers have died and more will unless they are properly looked after.

     The government is accused of doing too little too late and is playing catch-up to the situation rather than managing it with any efficiency, and each mismanaged day brings new death, directly attributable to political mismanagement.

     I am not so naïf as to think that a crisis can be managed with anything approaching perfection, “events, dear boy, events” will always frustrate the most meticulous of plans, but some things are inexcusable.  The signalling of the future lockdown of Madrid, giving plenty of time for comfortably off Madrileños to decamp to their costal summer homes and spread the virus was unforgiveable.   And I hope that last word ‘unforgiveable’ becomes the major impetus when the inquiry into the crisis is started, when the virus has been finally vanquished.



Two weeks.  Just two weeks.



     It hardly seems credible that we have been locked in for only a fortnight.  The world where social distancing (a wonderfully evocative phrase) did not exist seems like another era of history, some exotic maelstrom of conviviality where people actually touched and kissed each other, some rumbustious Restoration frivolity, viewed with nostalgia from our Puritan isolationism!

     I suppose that I should be grateful that time, which seemed to be speeding up for me as birthday after birthday flashed by, has slowed down again.  I wonder how many weeks it will take, before this becomes the new normal and time regains its usual velocity!



The days are beginning to lose their character: weekdays are no different from weekends; what is the essential difference between a Tuesday and a Thursday when you are stuck at home? 

     If there seems a sort of stasis in one’s perception of the distinct individuality of the days of the week, there will be a ‘real’ difference in the individual hours, because today is the day when we change the clocks and get an extra hour in bed.  This, of course, is only possible if you are still indulging yourself by keeping to a mythical ‘working day’ timetable giving a façade of normality to the structure of your enclosed temporal existence.

    

I have to say that I truly regret the indisposition of Johnson as it gives an opportunity for the Grotesque Goblin Gove to speak to the nation.  The man truly makes my flesh crawl as his mendacious sincerity constantly deflects questions into a fog of verbiage that comes nowhere close to a specific answer.  I loathe his master, too, of course, naturally, but the Blond Buffoon’s shaggy, unconstructed showiness when it comes to English expression is easier to dismiss.  There is something adhesively repulsive about Gove’s loquacity that is more difficult to brush away.  It needs to be flushed.  And then disinfected.  And then bleached.



Tomorrow a theoretical lie in, but I am sure that my ‘absolute’ body clock will get me up at the usual time, for Day 15 and the start of the third week of Lockdown.