Through all the time that the federal and local governments, in concert with wealthy New Orleanians, were pitching their battle, there was virtually no one fighting on the other side. Reviewing the 'available evidence' a month after Katrina, the New York Times concluded that 'the most alarming stories that coursed through the city appear to be little more than figments of frightened imaginations.' The reports of residents firing at National Guard helicopters, of tourists being robbed and raped on Bourbon Street, and of murderous rampages in the Superdome—all turned out to be false.
Why is it that in the aftermath of a disaster- whether manmade or natural-people suddenly become altruistic, resourceful, and brave? What makes the newfound communities and purpose many find in the ruins and crises after disaster so joyous? And what does this joy reveal about ordinarily unmet social desires and possibilities?
In A Paradise Built in Hell, award-winning author Rebecca Solnit explores these phenomena, looking at major calamities from the 1906 earthquake in San Francisco through the 1917 explosion that tore up Halifax, Nova Scotia, the 1985 Mexico City earthquake, 9/11, and Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans. She examines how disaster throws people into a temporary utopia of changed states of mind and social possibilities, as well as looking at the cost of the widespread myths and rarer real cases of social deterioration during crisis.
Surveying disasters from the 1906 San Francisco earthquake to 9/11 and Hurricane Katrina, [Solnit] shows that the typical response to calamity is spontaneous altruism, self-organization and mutual aid, with neighbors and strangers calmly rescuing, feeding and housing each other. Indeed, the main problem in such emergencies, she contends, is the elite panic of officials who clamp down with National Guardsmen and stifling regulations" [And one may add, shootings, arrests of innocent people, and seizure of private property.]
While Solnit makes no mention of the Transition Town movement in her book, the essential message of it resonates exquisitely with the movement's mission and methodology and powerfully underscores the need for the vision and strategic planning that Transition initiatives around the world are working to implement. That's because Solnit isn't just writing a book about how people come together in crises, but more importantly, how crises can meet our deeper need for meaning in our lives and even positively transform the social and political landscape of communities permanently.
The famous sociologist, Charles Fritz, gave birth to what we would call today, disaster studies. At first deemed a radical premise, Fritz argued that everyday life in a soul-numbing, alienating, consumeristic society is already a disaster and that actual disasters liberate us. Fritz researched how community identity is nurtured during disaster because, in the words of Solnit, 'disaster offers temporary solutions to the alienations and isolations of everyday life.' Fritz believed that everyday life is actually more difficult to live than dealing with disaster because in the latter, we know what to do and who to be...
Disasters usually dismantle hierarchies and require small groups of people to very quickly create makeshift [prepper movement], and even perhaps long-term, structures [transition movement] for meeting their needs. In this way, they are not unlike revolutions, and in some cases, result in similar outcomes over time. Typically in such a milieu, elites are threatened because 'power devolves to the people on the ground in many ways', demonstrating the viability of 'a dispersed, decentralized system of decision-making.' In these moments, says Solnit, 'Citizens themselves constitute the government', and generosity [is] demonstrated, as well as the depth of our longing for connection and purposefulness.(Source)
As Solnit says, 'Disasters may offer us a glimpse, but the challenge is to make something of it, before or beyond disaster: to recognize and realize these desires and these possibilities in ordinary times.' ...
The Transition model is not unique in its mission to nurture in 'ordinary times' the qualities that disasters almost always manifest-compassion, cooperation, the pride of place, and yes, even joy. However, it offers myriad tools for creating, not structures and communities that 'arise' in disaster, but those that are already in place and that provide an ongoing sense of meaning and purpose which may be savored with or without catastrophe.