Some initial thoughts from an earthquake engineer on the collapse of the apartment building in Tainan

There has been a lot of coverage of the total collapse of an apartment building observed in Tainan after the earthquake a few days ago. This blog takes a very initial look, using only the information available through news outlets, to try and start to understand what happened to cause this catastrophic collapse.

The structure concerned is the 17 storey Wei Guan Jun Ling apartment complex. Having had a look on Google street view I have found what I think is the building that has collapsed. These are views from the front and back:

View from front of collapsed building (from Google street view)

View from rear of collapsed building (from Google Street view)

It is obvious that the building has overturned in the direction shown in the diagram below. The apartments on the top 14 or so storeys of the building remain (relatively) intact with most of their damage likely to have been caused by the impact of it falling to the ground.

Collapse mechanism of structure

When we come to look at the bottom two storeys of the building, this is where this building's major weakness is clear. The diagram below highlights a possible soft storey (see red box). This is likely to have caused the overturning of the entire structure by either:

1. the collapse of the soft storey, particularly at the front (i.e. the white circled columns); or
2. the difference in stiffness between the apartments above and the soft storey below causing failure at the junction between the two (i.e. at second floor level).

Looking further through photos available online I found this photo (below). The photo appears to show (as far as I can tell) the ceiling that you would have seen if you had been standing on the first floor (on it's side). The walls and columns have ripped off the structure below, leaving steel reinforcement dangling. This gives some weight to the theory of the overturning of the building being initiated by a soft storey failure (see point 2 above). Additionally it is worth noting that the white circled columns above are orientated to offer less support if the building was trying to overturn towards the main road (as it did in the end), which gives weight to point 1 (see above).

http://edition.cnn.com/2016/02/08/asia/taiwan-earthquake/

It is clear that something significant was wrong with this structure. It lies on its side, whilst buildings next door have even managed to keep their windows intact (windows are often the first thing to break in earthquakes). Much of the discussion has focussed on poor construction of the building. The photo below appears to show tin cans in the bottom of a floor slab (although again I can't be sure). Filling concrete with 'junk' obviously reduce the concrete costs on a building site and is obviously a sign of poor construction, possible poor design, and poor building control (i.e. poor checks by government enforcers or designers as to whether the building is being constructed as it was designed). Depending on the extent of this 'junk-filled' concrete, this might also be a contributing factor.

http://edition.cnn.com/2016/02/08/asia/taiwan-earthquake/

It just goes to show that reinforced concrete structures are very complex buildings to design, and construct, and once built they can be very hard to assess for their vulnerability (as all of the weaknesses are hidden inside the concrete).

But the bottom line is, again, that poor construction and lack of enforcement of building regulations continue, unnecessarily, to kill people in earthquakes.

Community-based DRR: are we setting the bar too high?

I wrote a post for the World Conference on Disaster Risk Reduction (WCDRR) blog site ahead of the Sendai conference, you can read it here - and I have reposted it below. 

I have had the fortune of being able to study an incredible example of community-based disaster risk reduction (DRR), on the slopes of a very dangerous volcano in Ecuador. Volcán Tungurahua, or ‘Throat of Fire’ in English, is a serious threat to the lives and livelihoods of over 30,000 who live close by, and many more further away. Fifteen years ago a network of volunteers was established following a volcanic crisis. They are called the vigías in Spanish or ‘watchmen/lookout’ in English and they fulfill many roles, including citizen-scientists, an early warning network, risk communicators, DRR advocates, DRR managers, and risk assessors. Over the years the network has helped to save lives and build a resilient community, adapting to changing activity at the volcano, and has made necessary adjustments in response to changes in national risk management strategies.

We wanted to know how or why has this network lasted? What has sustained it?  How has it led to risk reduction? We were able to see that the network is successful because it:

·      Was started by communities, civil defense and scientists collaboratively

·      Has motivated volunteers

·      Actually reduces risk

·      Is sustained by strong trust-based relationships between volunteers, communities and scientists responsible for monitoring the volcano

·      Has facilitated community DRR activities, such as vulnerability and hazard assessment, and planning.

·      Has fostered resilient communities

Several years ago, when starting to research participatory DRR, I was struck by the scarcity of successful examples in the academic literature. This gaping hole stood out against the backdrop of international DRR strategies calling for increased participation, advocating changes from ‘top-down’ to ‘bottom-up’, and extolling the virtues of community-based assessment, monitoring and management of disaster risk.

I began to ask myself why are there limited examples? Is it because, although great in theory, community-based/participatory approaches simply don’t work in the real world? Is it because no one is taking an interest or because no one is writing about them?

I started to think that actually it might have been because of the ways in which we evaluate their effectiveness, and therefore describe them, are not quite fit for purpose. If you dive into the academic literature on participation in DRR or international development (DRR’s bigger sibling), many scholars suggest that community-based approaches should be evaluated on how they:

·      empower the powerless

·      change policy

·      prompt sustainable solutions that meet the communities’ needs.

These principles are ideals, and we should all strive for them. But should we use them to evaluate initiatives? Should we expect all participatory initiatives be empowering for everyone in a community? Will they all rebalance power from scientists or risk managers or the authorities? Should they all change policy? Can they all be sustainable? Do they need to do all of these things to reduce disaster risk? It does make me wonder, are we in danger of not recognising success because we set the bar too high?

I wonder if we are too critical of community-based initiatives? Researchers question the extent that they empower or change policy - suggesting that outsiders often drive them in an extractive way - rather than asking if they reduce risk. Scientists question the value of information or knowledge produced by things like citizen science and community-based monitoring or participatory disaster risk assessment. Authorities question the effectiveness or potential loss of objectivity of community-based disaster risk management.

Are we missing the point? In the real world, no participatory initiative is going to be perfect, but in a pragmatic sense shouldn’t we be asking:

·      Are they reducing risk?

o   How is that happening?

o   How can it be improved?

o   Are they developing adaptive capacity?

Looking at some of the published rationales for participation, a DRR focus on how it leads to better outcomes or enhances learning, is perhaps how we might better notice success.

If we reframe the problem in this way, perhaps we change our language from phrases like ‘top down/bottom up’ to describing participation as involvement in the process. Primarily considering risk reduction allows us to still understand empowerment and policy change, but might make it easier for us to recognise success.

I think that many more initiatives, like the vigías network, need to be described, so that we can learn from their successes and their failures.

Being critical is good in some cases, but DRR is difficult, and we need to find and describe any examples of where it is being done so that we can get better at it. This is particularly important for participatory DRR – so let’s not set the bar too high and miss out on recognising success.

Read more about the vigías

Real impact - who are the #unsungheros ?

I’m blessed to work with some incredible people but what is becoming increasingly apparent to me, is that those who are potentially having the biggest impact on society, especially in the context of reducing risk from volcanoes, are those that very often are not in the limelight. They often don’t publish articles in Nature, they don’t receive awards or plaudits or recognition. In fact – I might go as far as suggesting that in the current ways that the research councils or funding bodies value and encourage impact – they are almost irrelevant.

This troubles me deeply. Modern volcanology is about a systematic process aimed at reducing the adverse affects of volcanoes by understanding the causes of disasters and promoting strategies that limit exposure, reduce vulnerability, enhance early-warning and improve preparedness for future events. Don’t get me wrong – this requires excellent science – it really does, but what is ‘excellent science’?

I would wager that on many research proposals about volcanoes, that people say “the results from this study…could further scientific understanding and…help reduce risk”. This is a great aim – but are we as a community valuing and encouraging and promoting and supporting those people who are actually doing this? Not writing about it in a proposal or talking about it on TV – but those actually doing it?

Here’s who I think we undervalue:

• ·      People who do painstaking work on databases
• ·      Scientists and technicians working in volcano observatories who work tirelessly to just ensure that data is even collected, let alone write fancy research about it
• ·      Scientists who devote time and effort to listening to the needs of research partners and being respectful of them
• ·      Researchers who do modeling work for others for free or without meaningful acknowledgment
• ·      Those that work tirelessly to bring people together and develop and strengthen collaboration
• ·      Those senior people/professors who spend all of their time trying to find work for others or trying to make things happen – who perhaps don’t have a lot of time for themselves or their own research
• ·      Nice – unselfish people – who just want to help out

My fundamental problem with ‘impact’ is that the way that it is conceptualised is inherently selfish. That’s fine if the motivation for doing good work is just for the thrill of discovery, furthering ‘science’ or for personal gain – but most people working in volcanology or disaster risk reduction have base motivations that they want to help avoid disasters and improve people’s lives.

Surely we can’t go on in this way? Are we in danger that the impact agenda forces good and humble people to be self-serving?  Whereas, the reality is that true ‘impact’ is often made by those who are happy to just be ‘making cups of tea’ for the rest of the team.

Here’s my challenge to anyone that reads this (all 10 of you) – find a way to support, encourage and promote those who are doing the unselfish things. Because – those people often barely survive month to month, rarely get plaudits or awards, don’t get huge research grants, are often unable to attend conferences, and often don’t have time to blog or tweet.

I’m sure that I am not alone in thinking this – We all have too many conversations or hear too many stories about people being overlooked, undervalued and un-supported. What can we do about it?

I think that these people don’t need you to shout about them or cover them in decorations. They just need encouragement and support and to know their worth. Find those  #unsungheros and that’s where you will find real and meaningful impact.

Additional comment - people can be successful without being self-serving. But this post is about recognising those that aren't normally recognised :) 

Where are all of the engineers?

I'm biased, but I think engineers are pretty awesome. Turn on a tap and water just appears! Turn on a switch and a room is brought to light by a glowing pice of metal! Descend underground on magical moving escalators and take a train across a city! Fly around the world in something that weights 650 tonnes - not being an aeronautical engineer even I think A380s look and feel like some sort of wizardry!

WOW - engineering is essential to so much in human life. It solves every day problems with pragmatic solutions that are useable, useful and used.

People may consider engineers to:

Here's another definition:

Credit: http://www.amazon.com/ComputerGear-Engineer-Definition-T-shirt/dp/B009QR8P64/ref=pd_sim_a_11?ie=UTF8&refRID=1TE81YEM838ADXDMCQKB

So, now we have my 'unbiased' opinion cleared up (!), here's my question:

Why are there so few engineers involved in solving the problems of disaster risk and development?

The above skills strike me as a very similar set of skills that are needed in the field of Disaster Risk Reduction or DRR. To reduce disasters we need problem solvers, who can keep to a budget, who can think about future issues, who collaborate daily, who achieve results. Engineers have the attributes and inherent characteristics of the people who are needed.

So where are we?

Designing mega structures to be proud of?

Struggling for a 3% profit margin (much less than is deserved!) on city projects?

Delivering Olympic Parks?

All of these things are needed and are brilliant. But there must be more of us that care about humanitarian issues; that feel responsibility when we watch pictures on our screens of Haiti flattened by poorly designed concrete that we know, if we had designed, would have stood up and not wiped out that family. There is so much good work engineering work going on in developing countries, but there needs to be much more.

I recently attended the Pai Lin Li lecture at the Institute of Structural Engineers in London about transition shelters used by two NGOs in Ecuador and Haiti. But although these organisations are trying to provide shelter to vulnerable families, actually, they could be making them more vulnerable by providing shelter that is not engineered. And you know, engineering doesn't always make things more expensive. Actually, very often the opposite. We know how to design buildings. We know where to save on materials and where to reinforce. As a practising engineers, delivering money saving solutions is our job description!

Today I found out that Architects for Humanity are closing. Known for their great strap line 'Design Like You Give a Damn', and enigmatic founder Cameron Sinclair (here is his 2006 TED talk) this is one of the organisations that inspired me to do what I am now. So it's a sad day for them, me and for this type of work. Lack of funding is quoted to be the main issue: 

"It is that humanitarian design isn't considered a fundamental right. And that today, in San Francisco, it is easier to find funding for an app than to fund an organization which transforms lives."

So, here's my challenge. Let's stand up, be engineers and deliver engineering solutions to the developed and developing worlds. Let's 'obnoxiously insist' that things are 'done the right way'.

Here are some links to some organisations that might inspire you to get involved:

Architecture for Humanity

Build Change

EPICentre at UCL

Arup International Development

Engineers Against Poverty

Into the volcano: why glamourise the danger?

Into the volcano: why glamourise the danger?

Volcanologists wearing hard hats at Yassur several years ago. Take note BBC. (Photo @volcanna) 

Volcanoes are exciting things to see. Amazing cultures exist on their slopes. They threaten ways of life around them.

Hence, they make great TV – but I was disappointed with the first episode of BBC’s Into the Volcano.

Here’s why:

1) They weren’t wearing hard hats!!

Most volcanologists wear hard hats, even on volcanoes that haven’t been recently active. It’s now common practice, much like wearing a helmet whilst cycling or on a building site. I thought that these days all volcanologists wore them (especially when close to an exploding vent!). Even the smallest of ballistics from an explosion can kill someone. I have spoken at length to some of those who helped rescue survivors following the Galeras 1993 eruption – want an opinion on hard hats…ask them!

2) I question the risk/reward of collecting the lava bomb ‘fresh sample’

Did you know that there are actually quite a few volcanologists from Vanuatu, including many disaster management professionals, many of whom I often see at international conferences. I contacted them to ask why they didn’t appear in the programme. This was part of their reply:

“what was programmed to be shown by scientists for this show is not real and is against what we have been preaching to communities here, we educate the communities to take care of themselves not to throw themselves into the volcano!!!! Therefore we [Ni-Vanuatu scientists] ended up withdrawing ourselves from this filming campaign because what is being shown is not real, we do not go into the crater to collect data!!!!”

Maybe someone can give me a wholly convincing reason of why collecting a barely warm ‘fresh' sample was worth it, compared to the other bombs that they might have collected that were much nearer?

3) Volcanoes are dangerous enough – we don’t need to glamourise the risk

Volcanoes are really dangerous. They kill people. They force communities to change their ways of life to avoid potential harm. They also kill volcanologists and tourists who visit them. I’m very unimpressed with the producers for glamourising the danger, showing scientists collecting rocks without even the most modest health and safety equipment. I’m also sad that the scientists made this choice.

Most volcanologists work to reduce volcanic risk by increasing our knowledge of them through science and learning how to work with people living near them. Much of what was in this programme was laddish behaviour that I would expect to see (and admittedly sometimes enjoy) from the chaps at Top Gear.

BBC Into the volcano went to a location with the intention of doing something that is immensely dangerous, where the local volcanologists didn’t want to be involved, for limited scientific reward; this hasn’t done much to enhance the image of volcanology as a science that primarily aims to reduce risk.

"I knew it all along..." - avoiding hindsight bias after eruptions

“I knew it all along…” – as volcanologists, we need to be careful not to fall into the many traps that come from retrospectively looking at and indeed commenting on crises or catastrophes such as the recent eruption of Ontake.

There is a fantastic book you might want to read: Thinking fast and slow by Daniel Kahneman, which synthesises a huge body of research about how and why we make the decisions we make, particularly when it comes to risk and uncertainty. Many readers of this blog will be familiar with Kahneman’s papers, notably the 1976 “Heuristics and Biases” work with Amos Taversky. Others will be familiar with some of the work by his former PhD student Baruch Fischhoff on (among other things) risk communication*. I was planning on writing a short review of Thinking fast and slow from the perspective of what volcanologists can learn from cognitive psychology, but the eruption in Japan has got me thinking about one particular cognitive trap – the ‘hindsight bias’ or the ‘I knew it all along principle’, first investigated by Baruch Fischoff.

The key message is that as a group we must be very careful that when looking back at past eruptions, particularly when eyeballing monitoring data post-hoc, that we don’t make pronouncements about “missed warning signs” because we interpret things with the benefit of hindsight.

It turns out that it is very difficult for a human mind to reconstruct what we thought about something once we adopt a new belief about it. It leads us to believe that we understand the past, overstating the accuracy of the beliefs that we held (or would have held) at the time, as these are corrupted by what we now know. Kahneman suggests that if we are surprised by an unpredicted event, we adjust our view of the world to accommodate that surprise. Thus when we look back, we forget the state of mind or understanding that we had at the time, and simply think about what we know now.

What hindsight bias can do is lead us to interpret the quality of a decision (such as the recommendation for some kind of mitigative action) on whether the outcome was positive or negative, rather than whether or not the decision making process was sound. This bias leads us to a) overstate our expertise post-hoc, b) neglect the role of luck (or lack of it) in a particular outcome and c) suppress any memory of the effect that uncertainty will have had on our or other people’s interpretations/decisions.

Our natural tendency is to criticise decision making on risk issues when an outcome is negative, and neglect to recognise or praise decision-making when the outcome was good; this ‘outcome bias’ (a facet of hindsight) affects our interpretation of past events far more than we might realise. When considering what might happen at a volcano, a simplistic explanation is that we can consider the probability of an eruption happening given some monitoring signal [P(A|B)]. But, after an event has occurred…it’s quite different! It’s no longer an event that could happen (a chance or likelihood) but a certainty. So when we re-interpret past events, hindsight bias makes it very difficult for us in our present state of certainty, to acknowledge the attendant uncertainty before the eruption occurred. We find it very difficult to reconstruct or understand what our past belief would have been.

Kahneman suggests that these biases make it “almost impossible to evaluate a decision in terms of the beliefs that were reasonable when the decision was made”.

In fact, research suggests that the worse or more shocking a catastrophe is, the more acute hindsight bias becomes (think back to reactions in the aftermath of 9/11). This – in the case of Ontake – is reflected by language such as “failed to forecast” used in many** news articles.

So what does this mean for volcanologists in the wake of a tragedy such as the eruption of Ontake? Well, the first thing we should be aware of is that our opinions post-hoc, about what monitoring data may or may not have shown, or what decisions should or shouldn’t have been made, are prone to huge biases. So, we should be very careful what we voice about these events…particularly to the media! If we are going to retrospectively look at something, let’s do it in a robust and sensible way, such as the work by TheaHinks, Willy Aspinall and others on the 1976 eruption of Soufriére Guadeloupe.

Another point is that from afar – not being a Japanese volcanologist working on Ontake – the availability of information for us to be able make an informed opinion is surely very limited (what Kahneman refers to as the ‘availability bias’ or the ‘what you see is all there is to know principle’). So, just as we should be very cautious about talking about ‘missed signs’, we should also be aware that when we say things like ‘it’s impossible/very difficult to predict such eruptions’ or ‘there were no precursors’, our opinions are perhaps based on very sparse evidence (of course we can draw on other examples from other cases – but hopefully you get my point). In essence, maybe we could do with waiting for a little more information before passing comment.

Hopefully you get the idea that if you haven’t yet read Thinking fast and slow, then please do. It’s very difficult to overcome the various heuristics and biases that affect our opinions and decisions (even Kahneman admits to relentlessly struggling with this) …but being aware of them is an excellent first step.

 * Want to know more about the science of risk communication - read this excellent paper by Nick Pidgeon and Baruch Fischhoff 

** Not all articles/commentaries fall foul of the hindsight bias -  if you want to read some measured and not overly opinionated articles by volcanologists about the Ontake eruption – you might want to look here (Becky Williams) and here (Eruptions blog).