Terrorism: Emergency Communications

Lord Rees of Ludlow Excerpts

Thursday 5th July 2018 Lords Chamber

[Lord Rees of Ludlow (CB)]

My Lords, I contribute to this debate with diffidence. Others speak with far greater authority and have had direct experience of and responsibility for dealing with terrorist incidents, or, more generally, with infrastructure failures that could cause disruption and social breakdown. I pay tribute to the commitment of the noble Lord, Lord Harris, to these issues. He has emphasised particularly that enhancing the resilience of the electricity grid is surely a priority.

I will focus rather less on the communication medium than on the messages that need to be communicated in a context where we can expect far larger-scale and more catastrophic breakdowns and terrorist attacks that we have had up to now. Cities would be paralysed without electricity. The lights would go out, but that would be far from the most serious consequence. Within a few days, our cities would be uninhabitable and anarchic. We know what even an intrepid maverick with cyber skills can do, and there have been warnings from senior officials in this country and the US of how devastating and long-lasting a highly organised cyberattack could be.

Our high-tech and interconnected world is vulnerable in other ways. We depend increasingly on elaborate networks: air traffic control, international finance, globally dispersed manufacturing, biothreats and so forth. Unless these networks are highly resilient, their benefits could be outweighed by catastrophic, albeit rare, breakdowns. Social media can spread panic and rumour, and economic contagion, literally at the speed of light.

Not enough effort goes into minimising these risks, nor, for the focus of this debate, into preparing for how to cope with the aftermath of catastrophic events. There are two reasons for this underpreparation. First, we are in denial. We respond rationally and proportionately to fire risks, for instance, because, even though the chance of our home burning down is small, we have frequent reminders of fires and the damage they can do. We can estimate their probability and therefore the risk.

However, catastrophic events are rare—perhaps unprecedented or newly emergent—so we do not have this experience. We are lulled into believing that they will never happen so we are underprepared. It is an analogue of what is happening in the financial world. Gains and losses are asymmetric; many years of gradual gains can be wiped out by a sudden loss. Likewise, in cyberdisasters and those that might be caused by bio-error or bioterror, the risk is dominated by the rare but extreme events. The magnitude of the worst potential catastrophe is growing unprecedentedly large. Too many people are in denial about this; it needs to be higher up in public policy and attention.

The second reason for underpreparation is political reluctance to spend money in ways that may prove nugatory, as is likely to be the case for any low-probability but high-consequence scenario. For instance, in some years when a flu epidemic has been predicted, the Government have prudently stocked up on the appropriate virus but then been unfairly criticised for waste if some was not needed. We must overcome that mindset if we want to prepare for these extreme events. It is reassuring that the Government have given priority and resources to cyberdefence, where there is an arms race between the attackers and the defence and it is unclear whether the defence will always win.

It is surely not scaremongering to raise concerns about human-induced risks from bio-error or bioterror. We know all too well that technical expertise does not guarantee balanced rationality. The global village will have its village idiots, and they will have global range. The spread of an artificially released pathogen cannot be predicted or controlled. The rising empowerment of tech-savvy groups, even individuals, by biotechnology will pose a growing intractable challenge to governments and aggravate the tension among freedom, privacy, and security. Most likely, there will be a societal acceptance of a shift towards more intrusion and less privacy.

Before closing, I want to focus on nuclear threats. Even a stalwart establishment figure such as William Perry, the former US Defense Secretary, has expressed concern about scenarios involving terrorist nuclear weapons. Be that as it may, there have already been nuclear incidents that involved not explosions but serious radiation release. Such nuclear accidents hold lessons about the appropriate response—evacuation versus staying put, for instance—and messages that should be sent. In 2011, the Japanese tsunami claimed 30,000 lives, mainly through drowning. It also destroyed the Fukushima nuclear power stations, which were inadequately protected against a 15 metre-high wall of water and sub-optimally designed. For instance, the emergency generators were located low down, and were inactivated by flooding.

Consequently, radioactive materials leaked and spread. The surrounding villages were evacuated, but this was done through unco-ordinated messages and in an unco-ordinated way. Initially, just those within three kilometres of the power stations were evacuated, then those within 20 kilometres and then those within 30, with inadequate regard for the asymmetric way in which the wind was spreading the contamination. Some evacuees had to move three times and some villages remain uninhabited, with devastating consequences for the lives of long-term residents. Indeed, the mental trauma and other health problems, such as diabetes, have proved more debilitating than the radiation risk. Many evacuees, especially elderly ones, would be prepared to accept a substantially higher cancer risk in return for the freedom to live out their days in familiar surroundings. They should have that option. Likewise, incidentally, the mass evacuations after the Chernobyl disaster were not necessarily in the best interests of those displaced.

In Japan, it was the tsunami itself, not the nuclear accident, that caused the major death toll. The public fear of radiation is enhanced by a special dread factor and a feeling of helplessness. As a consequence, all nuclear projects are impeded by disproportionate concern about even very low radiation levels and the cost is raised by overstringent clean-up requirements. To offer a specific recommendation, were a city centre to be attacked by a dirty bomb—a conventional chemical explosion laced with radioactive material—some evacuation might be needed, but, just as in Fukushima, there is a risk that present guidelines would mandate a response that was unduly drastic, both in the extent and the duration of the evacuation.

The immediate aftermath of a dirty bomb incident is not the right time for a balanced debate. That is why this topic needs a new assessment and wide dissemination of clear and appropriate guidelines of the risks to different categories of people. We need discussion of a proportionate response and how to communicate it.

Finally, it is clear that such threats are growing in their variety and severity. We need to devote more resources to reducing our vulnerabilities, planning the optimum response and communicating it. The past is a poor guide to the future when fast-changing technologies are involved. There is a salutary mantra: “The unfamiliar is not the same as the improbable”.