The Intersection of Crisis Response and . . . Pretty Much Everything
" Referring to the recent crash on the D.C. Metro that killed 9 people, he wrote:The relative rarity of air and rail disasters makes them novel, and hence news. Car crashes bite man, and rail and air crashes bite dog. Intensive coverage of the few air and rail accidents that do occur in turn promotes the widespread — and erroneous — inference that planes and trains are unsafe. In an unfair irony, in transportation perhaps too much safety can be a dangerous thing.The Quarterback brings this up because in a recent post about the murder of Neda Sultan, I wrote:
We live our lives based on what is likely, not what is possible, in terms of danger. This video brings home in a very vivid way what of course we already knew -- that the world is not safe, particularly if you are a protester in Tehran.But Morris brings up the flip side of that, which is that trauma messes with our understanding of what is possible vs. what is likely. When something like this happens, we feel like we've been duped. We've been living our lives in a state of complacency, believing, say, that the Metro is safe, and we feel like all of a sudden we have woken up from our stupor to the horrible truth that it really isn't. And the media coverage reinforces that false perception.
On a related note, on Monday Freakonomics posted the following:
In the 1990’s, a call went out for the F.A.A. to stop letting air-traveling parents carry young children in their laps, making them buy a ticket for their children instead, so that every person could wear a seatbelt. The F.A.A. refused, saying that the cost of an extra ticket could force parents to travel by car instead. Car crashes are the leading cause of death for children. On the other hand, the problem of child safety in air travel, the F.A.A. said, “barely exists.” Yet another example of how terrible we are at assessing risk, especially when it comes to our children.One of the commenters replied:
The response to your blog is simple . . .The overwhelming majority of people are ignorant of the scientific method — thus, probability and risk.
I can't tell you how strenuously the Quarterback disagrees with this analysis. The fact that rational information tells us something different than that upon which we feel compelled to or choose to act does not mean we don't understand better information, or how good information is obtained. It just means that there are things that are psychologically more compelling than empirically derived data in this instance, and that, as the original post notes, we are actually pretty bad at estimating what the empirically derived data on danger will tell us.
Morris understands this when he looks at how the relative rarity and the news coverage of a transportation accident skews our perception of the danger of that mode of transportation. It may be that if you ask people which is safer, a car or the Metro, they will say a car. They will be wrong. But I doubt that if you told them the relevant statistics most people would say, "No, the Metro is still more dangerous." What they will say, however, is, "Even though I know that, my gut instinct is just to avoid the Metro."
Our guts are powerful, and yes, they are influenced by data and by the scientific method. They are also influenced by media coverage, shock, personalization, and perhaps most powerfully, by what we can control. We can avoid a plane, or strap our child in. We can avoid the Metro. We can drive defensively. But what most of us can't do without completely changing our entire lives is avoid driving, so it is important to us that, on a gut level, we continue to be able to drive. We therefore ignore that data, perhaps not cognitively, but instinctively. We're not stupid, we're just trying to get by, to live in the shadow of what is likely and what is possible.
The (Un) Happiest Place on Earth

As if we needed more reminders that trauma can strike anywhere, anytime, there was a crash on the monorail at Disney World's Magic Kingdom early this morning. One driver was killed. There were only five passengers on board, since it was 2 AM, and they were treated at the scene.
What caught the Quarterback's eye about this was the following line in the AP story:
The other train operator was not injured, but was taken to a hospital because he was emotionally shaken.Now, please don't misunderstand me. I in no way wish to call out the other driver for being emotionally shaken or for needing more help. I remember how shaken I was after a fender bender in which no one was hurt, so I can only begin to imagine being in one where someone was killed. On the contrary, this caught the Quarterback's eye because a) it was publicly acknowledged and b) they took him to the hospital.
The hospital? Really? You have to be pretty incredibly overcome to need to be treated in a hospital for the psychological effects of trauma right after it happens. Not to say it doesn't happen, mind you, but most people's reactions are shaking and crying and intrusive images and thoughts, espeically right away. Most people don't completely dissociate or have a psychotic episode.
What I'm hoping happened, really, is that the first responders and/or the folks at Disney recognized that this poor guy needed some support and that there were going to be reporters all over the place, and decided to take him to the hospital and hope someone there could help him. And it's entirely possible there are CISM personnel at the hospital, and hopefully they know how to get a hold of a team if there aren't. I hope, for his own sake, that this event didn't totally blow out this guy's ability to be out in the world, to the point where he was a danger to himself or others, that fast. I doubt it did, but you never know.
The other thing that of course draws our attention to this story is that it happened at Disney World. There are 150,000 passengers on the monorails there every day. If you live on the East Coast or near it, you either have been to Disney World, are planning to go to Disney World, would like to go to Disney World or loathe the very idea of going to Disney World. Nobody reads this story and says, "Disney World? Never heard of it."
So it's easy to identify. It's easy to put yourself on that monorail and imagine what a crash would be like. If we were traumatized at all by the D.C. Metro crash, this also triggers that association. And it's probably also easy to find relief that the accident occurred at 2 AM, when most of us know we would never be on the monorail. As fast as we personalize, we detach.
The Quarterback's deepest condolences to the family of the driver killed, a speedy recovery to the other one, and a moment of silliness in which I imagine the CISM team peers for Disney World cast members, dressed as Mickey, doing a debriefing. The Quarterback needs to get more sleep.
The Metro vs. Mott: Closeness is Relative

Yesterday, two stories hit the news that caught the Quarterback's attention. Unless you live in Southeast Michigan (and for many of you, even if you live in Southeast Michigan) you probably only heard about one.
The first story came in the morning. A worker constructing the new C.S.Mott Children's Hospital at the University of Michigan Medical Center was killed by falling debris. The second story you've undoubtedly heard. Two cars on the Washington, D.C. Metro collided at the Maryland border, killing 9 and injuring many more.
On the face of it, the hospital construction accident is literally much closer to home for the Quarterback, who lives in Ann Arbor, MI. Both of my children have been hospitalized at Mott, my son was born next door, and my husband and a number of friends are medical center employees. And yet, I found myself following the coverage of the D.C. crash much more closely. Why?
In this situation, the way our brains are wired to acquire new information is truly working against us. Whenever we learn something new, we try to fit it into what we already know. If we imagine our brains and our memories as a gigantic collection of file cabinets, it is much more efficient to file new information in an existing drawer than it is to build a whole new cabinet.
When I heard the news about the construction death, I opened the drawer marked "Mott hospital." I felt a connection, but not any fear. Nowhere in that drawer is there anyone who is working on the construction site. My connection did not travel anywhere near the death of the worker, it only went by way of the physical location.
When I heard about the train crash, my brain opened the drawer marked "D.C. Metro rider." And found all the times I myself have ridden the Metro, as well as my in-laws, cousins and friends who live in Washington and ride the Metro every day. Even though I could be 99% certain, based on the location of the crash, that none of them were affected, I was pulling out the file that told me they could have been -- the file that said I could have been, too. So my reaction was stronger. If I or someone in my close circle were a construction worker, the reverse might well have been true.
Being close to an event doesn't mean physical proximity. It means identifying with it. Closeness is relative in more ways than one. Thank goodness, the Quarterback's relatives are safe.
Meet the Quarterback
- Naomi Zikmund-Fisher
- is a clinical social worker, former school Principal and a Crisis Consultant for schools and community organizations. You can learn more about her at www.SchoolCrisisConsultant.com
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