The earthquake that struck last Wednesday was tragic. As of this writing, 12 are dead, over 1000 injured and 18 are worryingly, still missing.
Though they covered these facts, the international press mostly marveled at Taiwan’s response, using words like “resilient” and “well prepared.” Even the Japanese, with their own extensive experience with seismic activity, were impressed by the enclosed blue shelters set up in a school gym, which offered to those rendered homeless privacy and dignity, rather than the typical rows of bunks.
A CNN reporter on the scene, with a partially-collapsed building dramatically posed in the background, was agog at the low death count and how, for the most part, Hualien City (花蓮) was going about its business normally.
Photo: Reuters
Many other news outlets covered how the Taiwanese had done a remarkable job in earthquake preparedness and wrote glowingly on the giant steel ball in Taipei 101 that stabilizes the building during earthquakes and in typhoon-strength winds.
The Japanese, with their customary generosity and thoughtfulness, donated considerable amounts of aid money. Yet this time, unlike after the 921 earthquake of 1999, no international rescue teams were needed — Taiwan’s rapid response professional rescue teams had it covered.
The National Land Management Agency on Friday announced that 430 buildings were damaged by the earthquake, but only 18 were classified as “red zones” and 34 as “yellow zones.” They publicized structural warning signs for the public to look out for and asked anyone spotting these signs to contact the agency so they can send out structural engineers, and reminded the public that subsidies are available to fix weak load-bearing sections.
Photo: EPA
The international press was correct that the number of casualties and buildings damaged after a magnitude 7.2 earthquake was remarkably low, as tragic as it is that the numbers are not zero. Almost anywhere else in the world earthquakes of this scale would have caused orders of magnitude more casualties and destruction.
In spite of their good coverage, the international press missed something crucial: the core reason why Taiwan is one of the world’s best at responding to natural disasters.
THE REAL REASON TAIWAN IS SO GOOD AT THIS
Photo: Reuters
The international press noted that Taiwan had learned a lot from the 921 earthquake and had significantly strengthened building codes in the aftermath. Rescue teams and protocols were also beefed up.
It was not said explicitly, but reading between the lines, it was implied that Taiwan being wealthy ensures a higher level of resources are available. That certainly helps.
That Taiwan is so seismically active and has a lot of experience is also a factor. That Taiwanese are nimble, practical and excel at logistics could also be important contributors to the country’s success.
Yet, all of these factors would have contributed little to nothing without one core factor: Democracy.
Democracy is the force that ensures all those rules, resources and experience are put to any good use. Without democracy, this earthquake would have caused massive destruction and the international press would not be so impressed.
How do I know this? Because I witnessed what Taiwan was like before democracy and watched the transition. The difference is night and day.
HOW TAIWAN USED TO BE
Taiwan’s authoritarian era as defined by the Act on Promoting Transitional Justice is “15 August 1945 to 6 November 1992.” From 1992 to 1996 four of the five branches of government remained in the hands of the old Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) led system and it was only in 2000 that the executive branch finally saw a transfer of power to the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP).
I arrived in 1988, the same year Chiang Ching-kuo (蔣經國) passed away and the year before democracy activist Deng Nan-jung (鄭南榕) self-immolated to protest the government trying to imprison him for “insurrection” for having the temerity to write a proposal for a constitution for a Republic of Taiwan.
One frequent topic of discussion at the time was how shoddy Taiwanese construction was. Soon after I arrived, a just-constructed expressway overpass in Taipei collapsed.
There are roughly two periods of shoddy construction. The first was the early KMT-era.
It is frequently claimed that during that period — when the KMT monopolized resources — they thought because they were going to “retake the mainland” in the near future there was no point in building anything to last.
The second period is the economic boom times, roughly from the mid-1970s through the end of the 1990s. During this period, considerable private resources joined the construction party, and there were a lot of building because of all the money sloshing around.
There was no incentive for construction companies to build quality buildings. The money was in cutting corners, ignoring regulations and short-changing the client with subpar materials as much as possible.
At the time, with all the money involved, almost inevitably organized crime became deeply involved in the construction industry. These were not the most ethical people to begin with.
Since the one-party state had no challengers, they did not care very much what the public thought and did everything they could to ensure that the public did not make their concerns known if it involved criticizing the government. Potential prison time is not conducive to productive public debate.
SALAD CANS AND RADIOACTIVE REBAR
The contractors would bribe inspectors to look the other way. This was understood as common practice that was how inspectors made their money.
Government jobs at the time were largely gotten through personal ties, ties to the KMT or nepotism. Qualifications could easily be faked.
As long as what they built did not randomly collapse, leading to people dying without anything to blame it on — such as an earthquake — they could get away with nearly anything. They got very wealthy doing just that.
One common practice was to use salad oil cans in construction. During one period it was discovered that some extremely unscrupulous people were using radioactive rebar in projects in and near Taipei, which led to panic and many apartment buildings had to be checked with Geiger counters.
After natural disasters plenty of buildings would collapse. There would be talk of improving building codes, and sometimes new codes were written, only to be promptly ignored as things went back to the way they had been.
This is the type of system we see in China today, with their notoriously awful “tofu dregs” (豆腐渣) construction. Tragically, countless Chinese will continue to lose their lives in natural disasters due to a system that does not prioritize their safety.
Once political power was put in the hands of voters, things began to change in Taiwan. It was a process that happened over time, in different places at different paces. Some say it still has not entirely happened yet in “Miaoli Nation” (苗栗國).
Public pressure now mattered. The newly emboldened free press could make a politician’s life a living hell if it appeared that their malfeasance had led to deaths in a disaster.
As politicians learned the ropes of democracy, navigating the free press and learning how powerful public pressure could be, politicians started to adapt. As politicians grew to understand how completely they could be roasted by the people, they became ever more proactive in promoting safety and taking pre-emptive precautions.
They began to care about the professionalism of their inspectors, the performance of their rescue workers and taking the time and energy to contingency plan. A leader that performed well in a crisis, or is seen as to have done a good job containing a disaster is praised in Taiwan, one that does not is punished.
Democracy incentivized everything into existence that the international press praised. Without it Taiwan would have continued with the old system that gave little priority to human life.
Courtney Donovan Smith is a regular columnist for Taipei Times, the central Taiwan correspondent at ICRT FM100 Radio News, co-publisher Compass Magazine, co-founder Taiwan Report (report.tw) and former chair of the Taichung American Chamber of Commerce. Follow him on X: @donovan_smith.
April 28 to May 4 During the Japanese colonial era, a city’s “first” high school typically served Japanese students, while Taiwanese attended the “second” high school. Only in Taichung was this reversed. That’s because when Taichung First High School opened its doors on May 1, 1915 to serve Taiwanese students who were previously barred from secondary education, it was the only high school in town. Former principal Hideo Azukisawa threatened to quit when the government in 1922 attempted to transfer the “first” designation to a new local high school for Japanese students, leading to this unusual situation. Prior to the Taichung First
Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) Chairman Eric Chu (朱立倫) hatched a bold plan to charge forward and seize the initiative when he held a protest in front of the Taipei City Prosecutors’ Office. Though risky, because illegal, its success would help tackle at least six problems facing both himself and the KMT. What he did not see coming was Taipei Mayor Chiang Wan-an (將萬安) tripping him up out of the gate. In spite of Chu being the most consequential and successful KMT chairman since the early 2010s — arguably saving the party from financial ruin and restoring its electoral viability —
The Ministry of Education last month proposed a nationwide ban on mobile devices in schools, aiming to curb concerns over student phone addiction. Under the revised regulation, which will take effect in August, teachers and schools will be required to collect mobile devices — including phones, laptops and wearables devices — for safekeeping during school hours, unless they are being used for educational purposes. For Chang Fong-ching (張鳳琴), the ban will have a positive impact. “It’s a good move,” says the professor in the department of
Toward the outside edge of Taichung City, in Wufeng District (霧峰去), sits a sprawling collection of single-story buildings with tiled roofs belonging to the Wufeng Lin (霧峰林家) family, who rose to prominence through success in military, commercial, and artistic endeavors in the 19th century. Most of these buildings have brick walls and tiled roofs in the traditional reddish-brown color, but in the middle is one incongruous property with bright white walls and a black tiled roof: Yipu Garden (頤圃). Purists may scoff at the Japanese-style exterior and its radical departure from the Fujianese architectural style of the surrounding buildings. However, the property
RSS