Wednesday morning a large earthquake hit Southern California — initial reports saying it had a 6.4 magnitude and could be felt in Las Vegas.
Washington Emergency Management (WEM) took the opportunity to remind folks on how to be prepared for an earthquake.
If you feel an earthquake, drop, cover and hold, WEM said in a tweet. If you feel shaking and you’re near the coast, get to high ground right away. WEM says to assume a tsunami is on the way and don’t wait for sirens to get higher.
On June 18, the government of Canada declared a national climate emergency. The next day, the same government approved the Trans Mountain pipeline expansion (TMX), which will be able to move almost 600,000 barrels of oil per day from Alberta to the Port of Burnaby in British Columbia.
If this seems like a contradiction, you are not alone.
To date, Canada is the largest single jurisdiction to have declared a national climate emergency, following nations like Scotland, regions like Catalonia in Spain and cities like Vancouver and San Francisco.
Altogether, 83 million people, living 623 jurisdictions, are now living under a state of climate emergency. The vast majority of these declarations have occurred in the last six months. The term climate emergency intentionally evokes a state of emergency — and implies imminent action on the part of the government.
The strategy includes other lofty goals: eliminating poverty, building green infrastructure and increasing government transparency.
Climate change will affect weather over Toronto and the city will need to invest in ways to adapt to significant meteorological changes, said the city’s chief resilience officer, Elliott Cappell, who was in charge of writing the 157-page document.
“Toronto is getting hotter, wetter and wilder, and of course that’s a result of climate change”
In the coming years, the city’s climate is expected to become more violent and less predictable. Extreme weather events, like heat waves and violent rainstorms, are projected to become more common. On Sunday, Lake Ontario water levels hit their highest point ever recorded and parts of the Toronto Islands were flooded. It’s the second time in three years that the city has seen such severe flooding.
The disruption, which lasted four hours, originated from national carrier KPN, and affected other providers linked to its network. KPN said the cause was still unclear but it did not appear to be a hack.
“We have no reason to think it was (a hack) and we monitor our systems 24/7,” a company spokeswoman told Reuters.
Landlines and mobile phones linked to the KPN network were also affected, but it was the failure of the national emergency line that was most worrying. Emergency services responded by putting out alternative contact information on social media.
New York City based emergency management official Kelly McKinney has responded to disasters such as Hurricane Sandy and the Harlem Gas Explosion. But what keeps him awake at night is whether the US is prepared for something very big – like a massive earthquake and tsunami.
Preparing for the worst on Sunday Extra Separate stories podcast with Hugh Riminton on RN
Quebec Premier Francois Legault says governments will need to adapt programs as climate change increases the frequency of serious flooding.
Flooding compensation will be capped at a cumulative total of $100,000, after which the only aid available will be to help move out of the flood zone
Legault says Quebec cannot waste taxpayer money on compensating people for flood damage, only to see the same properties flooded again two or three years later. That is why beginning this year, flooding compensation will be capped by the province at a cumulative total of $100,000, after which the only aid available will be to help move out of the flood zone.
Speaking to reporters today after touring flooded areas in Gatineau, Legault praised the efforts of local residents, provincial authorities and the Canadian Armed Forces in preparing for rising waters.
Who among us is not getting that whiff of dread… a giddy feeling, like we’re all riding a giant beer truck careening downhill toward the flashing red lights of a railroad crossing? Could it be that you are sensing our ultra-modern society on a collision course with a range of catastrophic threats?
In his most recent book, The Fifth Risk (1), bestselling author Michael Lewis dumps gasoline on the bonfire of this paranoia. The super-journalist spends some quality time with key leaders from the outgoing Obama administration in their last days in office. When he asks the question “What keeps you up at night?” there is no shortage of answers
For better or worse, we are all in the disaster business
Lewis takes us on a tour of that massive dysfunctional bureaucracy we call the executive branch of the federal government. He learns that a lot of what it does is try to prevent things from going very badly, from a cyber 9/11 that could send us back to the Dark Ages to a pathogenic virus that could wipe out half the population (2). The federal government employs over two million people, three-quarters of whom are in one way or another involved in national security.
The federal government employs over two million people, three-quarters of whom are in one way or another involved in national security
The Department of Energy is perhaps the best example. In his failed bid for the White House, the current Secretary of Energy promised to eliminate DOE. But then Rick Perry was briefed about all of the things his agency does to prevent unimaginable devastation,from countering the North Korea threat to shoring up our fragile electrical grid. He changed his mind (3).
DOE spends over two billion dollars a year scouring the world to make sure loose nukes don’t fall into the wrong hands. In the Obama years alone, it collected enough weapons-grade plutonium and uranium to make a hundred and sixty nuclear bombs.
But that is just the tip of the iceberg!
The worst risk-management organization imaginable
Our federal bureaucracy is a Frankenstein’s monster of cabinet-level departments, boards, commissions and agencies, more than two thousand in all, stitched together by successive generations of elected and appointed officials over some 250 years of history. The result is an immensely complex landscape of blinkered silos, with overlapping specializations and responsibilities. Congress tries to influence the work of this beast with its hundreds of different voices and ever-changing funding streams. But the White House and Congress rarely agree about all the things the agencies should be working on, or even know what they are.
With respect to the preventing things from going very badly part, Lewis describes it as kindergarten soccer: “everyone is on the ball, but no one is at their positions”(4). Hang on, because it gets worse…
Our government gets collective amnesia every eight years
Most of what we rely on government for is practical stuff that has little to do with politics. Especially the stuff that would keep you up at night if you knew about it. Every incoming administration has to take all of this on; figure out what it is and how to do it. But almost as soon as it gets over the learning curve, it’s time for a new handoff. Our government gets collective amnesia every eight years.
“It’s Groundhog Day” said one good government expert (5), “The new people come in and think that the previous administration and the civil service are lazy or stupid. Then they actually get to know the place they are managing. And when they leave they say, ‘this was a really hard job’. This happens over and over.”(6)
According to Lewis, the Obama team created detailed training courses about its inner workings in preparation for a handoff to the next administration. But after the 2016 election, there was only “radio silence”; the Trump people were nowhere to be found.
The hard truth sinks in as we stare up the steep slope of our risk curve and try to think of an organization that is less-suited to deal with it. Our dysfunctional bureaucracy, our legacy government, cannot coordinate a coherent response to the threats we face.
At this point, a mere bonfire seems inadequate to our paranoia.
Yet it is our only hope; there is no other mechanism.
The internet and globalization have increased the pace and complexity of our lives and created a tangled web of relationships and highly interconnected systems that comprise our critical infrastructure: power, telecommunications, the financial system, supply chains, transportation, healthcare, you name it. Regardless what their caretakers say, disaster professionals know that every one of these ‘smart’ systems contains the seeds of its own destruction; each is moving toward the precipice of catastrophe rather than away from it, by its very nature. Not even a tiny, random tremor is needed to trigger a major collapse—unexpectedly and resoundingly.
When accidents occur in high-risk systems, such as those dealing with toxic chemicals, artificial intelligence, or nuclear weapons, the consequences can be catastrophic. We call these kinds of low-probability, high-impact events black swans. No entity, private-sector or otherwise, comes close to being willing or able to take these on.
Ownership of the black swan must fall to government.
We can’t bring a bag of rocks to a gunfight
There is an urgent need to take aim at our 21 st century demons. The good news is that we have the technology and the tools we need to do this. We can bring modern risk management practices to bear to create order out of the chaos. We can look across the whole of the government and create a coherent approach that aligns the risk landscape with our risk appetites.
But we need a big army, with every sophisticated weapon available, imbued with executive authority and unleashed into this government, to flush out and capture the biggest portfolio of such risks ever managed by a single institution in the history of the world.
In the best case outcome, we could make the very bad things happen less frequently
This new team, the enterprise risk team, would be charged with systematically breaking through those silo walls, one by one, to unearth the white-hot risks buried deep within those two thousand agencies. Among the revelations in The Fifth Risk is the enormous amount of data collected, analyzed, and disseminated by these agencies.
The enterprise risk team would have access to all of that data. It would bring leadership from all over the government (and beyond) together to gauge and calibrate the shock resistance of the nation. It would be empowered to identify, assess, measure and monitor all of our risks.
This approach will minimize surprises and, more importantly, shorten the timelines of our responses to them. In the best case outcome, we could make the very bad things happen less frequently.
Give these big guns to FEMA
Disaster professionals call this process-coordinating across organizations to make sure we are prioritizing the right things and not missing anything-enterprise risk management, or ERM. Only ERM can create a permanent framework to manage our full range of risks and respond to new risks, and opportunities, as they arise.
But this kind of bold solution requires leadership of a special kind.
The kind of leadership that breaks down silo walls to create a commonality of purpose among people and agencies doing very different work. Some call that meta-leadership but we know it to be merely emergency management.
The Federal Emergency Management Agency can do this work because it is doing it now, from disaster planning to response operations and on and on, breaking down silo walls and getting everybody on the same page. With its mission to “ensure that as a nation we work together to prepare for and protect against all hazards”, FEMA must assume its role as the risk manager for the national enterprise.
The antidote to the flavor of the month
The mind is a terrible thing to understand risk. People just naturally imagine that the crisis that just happened is the one that is most likely to happen again (aka the “flavor of the month”). They are less good at imagining a crisis before it happens – and taking action to prevent it. This is the job of the emergency manager.
People just naturally imagine that the crisis that just happened is the one that is most likely to happen again
FEMA can establish the processes to systematically counter our human biases, and the political winds. It can force our government to imagine the disasters that have never happened. The sort of disasters that a Hollywood screenwriter might imagine: vivid, dramatic events. Along with these it can examine our systemic risks, what Lewis calls the Fifth Risk, such as contagion to the financial system or a tidal wave of severely ill patients into our hospitals.
The black swan is not a political animal
The day that the black swan comes is a Groundhog Day of a uniquely dark and chaotic variety. It brings with it a painful insight—about the mistakes we made and the actions we did or did not take that would have increased our options, or maybe even saved our country.
This is not a treatise on the appropriate size of government because, believe it or not, the black swan couldn’t care less about politics. Whether we take government for granted or imagine it to be a pernicious force in our lives over which we have no control, the Groundhog Day the black swan brings will remind us that the basic role of government is to keep us safe (7). Because on that day, government will be the only thing that stands between us and the things that will kill us.
(1) Lewis, Michael (2018). The Fifth Risk. New York: W. W. Norton & Company. ISBN 978-1-324-00264-2
(2) Ibid, page 25
(3) Rick Perry Regrets Call to Close Energy Department, By Coral Davenport, 19 January 2017, The New York Times,
Mozambique began three days of national mourning on Wednesday for more than 200 victims of Cyclone Idai, while the death toll in neighboring Zimbabwe rose to more than 100 from one of the most destructive storms to strike southern Africa in decades.
Torrential rains were expected to continue into Thursday and floodwaters were still rising, according to aid groups trying to get food, water and clothing to desperate survivors. It will be days before Mozambique’s inundated plains drain toward the Indian Ocean and even longer before the full scale of the devastation is known.
People have been clinging to trees and huddling on rooftops since the cyclone roared in over the weekend, and aid groups were desperately trying to rescue as many as they can. The United Nations humanitarian office said the town of Buzi, with some 200,000 people, was at risk of becoming at least partially submerged.
Extreme weather events are becoming more frequent, and more costly. According to one estimate, natural disasters caused about $340 billion in damage across the world in 2017. And insurers had to pay out a record $138 billion. The $5 trillion global insurance industry plays a huge role in the U.S. economy. Insurance spending in 2017 made up about 11 percent of America’s GDP.
Natural disasters cost the USA $91 billion in 2018, according to a new report from the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration.
The report’s findings are a sign that the changing climate and increasing numbers of extreme weather events are having a significant economic impact, even as the Trump administration continues to undo Obama-era climate regulations.
Have you ever met someone who’s never ridden a bike, heard a song on the radio, received a piece of mail, pet a cat, eaten an apple, caught a cold or seen an ice cube? That’s because you’ve never been to North Sentinel Island, nor should you ever go.
A missionary recently learned, as many others had before him, that visitors here are greeted with spear tips. As one of the most isolated people in the world, the Sentinelese have honed an unyielding reflex for self-preservation, which is buttressed by the Indian government’s effort to benevolently quarantine the tiny island from the invasive cultures and diseases that traditionally drive traditional cultures to extinction.
On one of humanity’s darkest days, this endangered tribe emerged unscathed
But there are forces against which Sentinelese spears and Indian ships offer no protection. On December 26th, 2004 at 7:58am, a 9.1M earthquake off the coast of Banda Aceh, Indonesia triggered a tsunami that took 230,000 lives in countries throughout the Indian Ocean. The first massive wave would have struck North Sentinel Island at approximately 8:33am.
As a fishing population numbering in the dozens on an island that peeks at 400 feet, the Sentinelese’ survival seemed impossible in a disaster where casualties were rounded to the nearest thousand. Yet, on one of humanity’s darkest days, this endangered tribe emerged unscathed, and with vigor enough to fire arrows at the Indian helicopter sent to check on them. The Great Andamanese, Onge, Jarawa and Shompen tribes similarly thrived where “civilizations” buckled.
“The Knowledge Myth: If we have knowledge, we will act in our best interests based on that knowledge. Therefore, the distribution of knowledge will save us.”
As one of the few feel good stories to emerge from the Boxing Day tragedy, the triumph of these tribes over nature’s wrath made headlines: “Traditional knowledge saved ancient tribes from tsunami.” Headlines like that, which we typically swallow without hesitation, reflect what I call the Knowledge Myth. The Knowledge Myth goes something like this: If we have knowledge, we will act in our best interests based on that knowledge. Therefore, the distribution of knowledge will save us.
What saved the Sentinelese? “Knowledge did”, said the Knowledge Myth, as we nodded in agreement, missing half the story.
The Knowledge Myth
The Knowledge Myth is pervasive in the arena of public safety. Let’s take it for a test drive to see how it holds up. The first Model T was manufactured in 1908, the summer of which saw 30 auto fatalities in Detroit alone. I’d argue that we had a working knowledge of auto hazards almost from day one. Even so, seatbelts only became standard in 1958, and only in 1998 did the actual usage of seatbelts by people like you and me become practice among 70% of Americans, heralding a precipitous and overdue drop in needless fatalities. Knowledge Myth: busted. Why did it take 90 years to address an undisputed and universally acknowledged risk?
I’m guessing you said stupidity. They were stupid and I am not stupid, therefor past mistakes do not apply to me. The Stupidity Myth is a convenient culprit when the Knowledge Myth fails. I get that the Stupidity Myth is comforting. I hear it often and call upon it myself when I’m feeling pissy and disappointed in our collective failings. But it’s a BS answer. Stupidity is not what kept us from buckling our seatbelts in the 70s and knowledge is not what saved the Sentinelese in 2004. Culture is the answer in both cases. And culture, simply put, is the product of what we expect of one another. I concern myself with one type of culture in particular: preparedness culture.
As FEMA has confessed, you can shower the public with resources, slogans and warnings over two decades without yielding results.
One year ago, I spoke to a packed auditorium in Portland, Oregon, where I provided a well-resourced and educated audience a vivid and irrefutable picture of the massive earthquake that will one day befall the Pacific Northwest. When asked if we should individually prepare for the event of a Cascadia Subduction Zone earthquake, 3,000 hands shot up. When asked if they expected one another to prepare for this same earthquake, four hands timidly rose. When there’s incongruity between individual commonsense and actual societal behavior, culture is the most likely culprit. History has proven countless times that culture determines which ideas, knowledge and practices are discarded and which become our salvation.
As FEMA has confessed, you can shower the public with resources, slogans and warnings over two decades without yielding results. If the soil isn’t there, the seeds won’t grow.
What can we learn from the Sentinelese – an isolated, spear-wielding, pre-industrial tribe whose way of life is utterly divorced from our own experience?
1. The messenger of knowledge is at least as important as the knowledge itself:
Everything the Sentinelese knew about tsunamis they learned from someone they knew and trusted, a community member with a shared experience. Like the Sentinelese, you are influenced most by those whom you know, love and trust, and you have the most influence over those who know, love and trust you.
2. Culture isn’t found in what we know, it’s found in what we expect of one another:
The Sentinelese clearly expected one another to run for high ground when they saw signs of the tsunami’s approach. I doubt they were mocking anyone’s paranoia. This is particularly remarkable as none of them would have personally witnessed those signs before 8:30am on that fateful day.
3. Culture is a survival mechanism:
“Preparedness” is too small a word for the Sentinelese – they are living in a state of adaptation, like gills to a fish. Their adherence to their culture and its transmission from generation to generation – even through the generations that never saw a tsunami – has allowed them to continuously inhabit this remote corner of the world for 70,000 years.
Many of us are waiting for a disaster event that we have never personally experienced
Like the Sentinelese before the Boxing Day Tsunami, many of us are waiting for a disaster event that we have never personally experienced. Unlike the Sentinelese, we have not taken ownership of the cultural practices that might save us. Fortunately, our culture is not locked and isolated in time. Culture can and does change quickly when regular people make a conscious and courageous effort to stand as counter-cultural ambassadors of commonsense.
Those ambassadors influence those who know, love and trust them best, who themselves can become examples for others, and so forth. As the dominoes of social influence tumble, our perceptions evolve. Weird becomes normal, normal becomes expected, and somewhere along the way a tipping point is reach when the expected becomes cultural. Preparedness is too small a word for us.
This is about adaptation. It’s time for us to grow our own set of gills.
You hope bad things won’t happen to you and you don’t like to think about them. Soyou don’t.
You don’t think about the many different varieties of disaster, small and large—and very large—that could affect you. Or that could affect your family, your neighbors, your city (or megacity), your state, and your nation.
The problem is that someday you will find yourself amid one of those disasters
The problem is that someday you will find yourself amid one of those disasters. That will be your moment of truth: a painful time that will come with a gift of insight—insight about the mistakes you made and the actions you did not take that would have increased your options or maybe even saved your life.
It’s not like you haven’t heard this before. Ads urging you to build a kit or make a plan are everywhere these days. From FEMA’s Ready.gov to the CDC’s Zombie Preparedness campaign to the American Red Cross’s Be Red Cross Ready program, enormous time and effort are spent badgering you to be prepared.
The problem is that this time and effort is wasted.
People don’t admit to shortcomings
Studies conducted over the past 15 years show that campaigns such as America’s PrepareAthon, and National Preparedness Month, all aimed at individual households and communities, are not moving the resilience needle. In its 2014 report Personal Preparedness in America, FEMA cited research gathered over the course of 8 years that showed that the percentage of individuals who prepared remained largely unchanged.
Other national surveys report similar dismal findings. Although more than ninety percent of Americans think it’s important, fewer than 1 in 8 people say they have taken any steps at all to prepare for an emergency. Even people who live in higher risk locations, like earthquake or tsunami zones, don’t do much to get ready.
Worse yet, scientists tell us that people don’t admit to shortcomings when responding to these sorts of survey which means even these dismal results may be overly optimistic.
What is wrong with people?
What’s wrong with us is that we are human, and each of us has been given that uniquely human gift called hope. Hope can be quite useful in our daily lives. For instance, what if instead of running off to work in the morning, we first took time to ponder all the bad things that could happen out there in the great big scary world? We might decide to stay home instead, curled up in a fetal position under a blanket.
While hope allows us to function in our daily lives unhindered by fear, it prevents us from doing some easy things now that will improve our situation when something really bad happens.
Have you heard the expression “Hope for the best and prepare for the worst”? It’s a good idea, but the data shows that we are skipping that second part. When it comes to the actual preparing, we punt. It’s too much work, too much stuff to buy, too many scary scenarios we don’t want to contemplate. So, instead of contemplating, we block everything out with denial as impenetrable as a brick wall.
A brick wall of hope
The wall gives us comfort. It lets us believe, “It probably won’t happen to me”.
The vast majority live their lives surrounded by that brick wall. They are either inclined to prepare themselves and their families or they are not. That is just human nature.
But it cannot be true of the people, like us, who get paid to do these things.
The public depends on us to be ready to go to battle with the black swan. In the disaster business, we call that “owning the problem.” But because we are people too, disaster professionals inevitably struggle with that same brick wall. So, as the public points at us, we spend precious time and money creating campaigns that we use to point right back at them.
We justify this with that treasured concept in the disaster preparedness business: “Whole Community”.
“Whole Community and shared responsibility, across all layers of government and down to the individual, is a hallmark of this plan”
– FEMA’s 2018-2022 Strategic Plan
According to the Whole Community concept, everyone—individuals and families, businesses, faith-based and community organizations, nonprofit groups, schools, you name it—is working together, hand in hand, to build a resilient nation.
If this sounds too good to be true, that is because it is
These days, individuals and families, businesses, faith-based and community organizations, nonprofit groups, and schools have a lot on their plates. Full plates—with things like fatalism, defiance, cost, misplaced confidence, complacency, faith, and good old-fashioned procrastination—thwart real progress in preparedness.
I hate to be the one to break it to you, but Whole Community is a myth. And, like all myths, the Whole Community myth contains a grain of truth, because there are plenty of people working to be ready for disasters. It’s just that the idea that it is happening spontaneously everywhere, or in some organized way, to increase our collective resilience is a fiction. Besides, it is classic muddled thinking to say that everybody is doing something, since it is the same thing as saying that nobody is.
Whole Community is a story made up by disaster professionals. Some say it exists so that we can avoid responsibility; instead of pointing to ourselves as responsible to lead preparedness for the nation, it’s a whole lot easier just to point back at them.
It is undoubtedly true that individuals and families need to prepare for disasters. But that’s on them. It has little to do with us.
Because we are the emergency managers. We own the disaster.
The hardest job in the world
Scientists tell us that two million years ago, Homo erectus, our ancient ancestors, first walked upright upon the land. By that time, the brick wall of hope was already a well-established fixture within the mind of every Homo erectian—disasters having been a part of everyone’s life for as long as anyone could remember.
Humanity has been responding to disasters since that time, and our track record is mixed at best. Our track record with worst-case disasters, however, is not mixed. Throughout our long history and to the present day, catastrophic response is an unbroken series of abject failures.
No generation has ever effectively assisted massive numbers of its fellow human beings in the midst of catastrophe. There are some very good reasons for this. Large-scale disasters bring with them unique challenges. They affect everyone at the same time; they cross political boundaries and they create a demand for resources that greatly exceeds what is immediately available.
That is why it is the most difficult of human endeavors. It requires that emergency managers find and fix a multitude of urgent problems and unmet needs across a vast parallel universe…
…where the normal rules of logic don’t apply
…where the need is a hundred times greater than the resources at hand
…where a hundred times more problems exist than anyone has the capacity to engage
…where time is elastic, slowing down, then suddenly flying by
…where cellphones don’t work
…where roads are blocked…
But the fact that it’s difficult is no excuse for not doing it.
Despite the challenges, it is our job to assist our fellow human beings in their time of greatest need, and we must do it with dignity and respect.
So… what are we waiting for? Let’s get to work.
Emergency managers need to turn that finger around and begin to point it back at ourselves. We need to spend less time trying to predict the future, searching for bugs in the software or targets that need hardening and spend more time learning how to reconfigure ourselves to confront the unknown in a complex environment.
There aren’t two ways to do this; there is only one. Disaster professionals all over the country must come together into a massive team of teams, an incident organization, a Great Machine; the bigger the disaster, the bigger the machine. The United States of America needs the ability to bring together a Great Machine—the size of a Google or even a Walmart—with the ability to communicate up, down, and across the organization in one day.
All our assets must be engaged: first responders, government agency staff, National Guard soldiers, aid workers, construction workers, private employees, and volunteers from every city, town, county, borough, and parish across the country. The challenge is that every government agency, nonprofit organization, military battalion, and private company is occupied by and absorbed in a daily mission. Every piece is a separate silo, and only a compelling need can draw it away from that daily mission.
By coming together now, emergency managers can create muscle memory around this process—a straightforward process clearly understood by all—to bring the resources of the nation to bear in the early hours of the disaster, to reach deep into the system to buy, beg, and borrow everything we will need.
If all of this sounds daunting, it is. Yet, who can deny the nature of the threat or the urgency of the need? Again, there aren’t two ways to do this; there is only one.
Which means this sort of comprehensive, proactive, integrated, and all-of-nation planning is going to happen. It’s just a question of when—and whether it will be done the easy way, by figuring it out beforehand, or the hard way, in the aftermath of the next black swan.
 Deborah Wilson, “‘I’ll be OK’ attitude behind lack of disaster preparedness, study finds,” CBC News, 24 January 2018, accessed at http://www.cbc.ca/1.4502644
 Uscher-Pines, L., Chandra, A., Acosta, J., & Kellerman, A. (2012). Citizen Preparedness for Disasters: Are Current Assumptions Valid? Disaster Medicine Public Health Preparedness, 6(2), 170–173
 Including individuals and families (including those with access and functional needs), businesses, faith-based, and community organizations, nonprofit groups, schools and academia, media outlets, and state, local, tribal, territorial, and the federal government.
 General Stanley A. McChrystal, Team of Teams: New Rules of Engagement for a Complex World. Portfolio/Penguin, 2015