In the past week, Filipinos have learned more about urban planning than they had in the last 20 to 40 years.
Because of Ondoy, the public spotlight has turned to the issue of urban development – its factors, processes, and impacts. This heightened consciousness is groundbreaking. However, it is also overdue and, in the case of the recent tragedy, too late.
I quite agree with most of my tribe that Ondoy – or rather the destruction that she left in her wake – was not an act of God, but human error. I’m not going to do a Jacque Bermejo here, but I’m also not allowing myself – us – to get away with this.
The massive flooding that followed Ondoy almost instantaneously was a failure of planning. From conceptualization to implementation to monitoring, it was the lack or awareness, and in many ways, the complete disregard for planning principles and guidelines that did us in. Media is rife with updates of what may have caused the massive flooding: the location and topography of the affected areas that made them naturally prone to inundation; the deforestation of Sierra Madre that peeled away the ability of the land to absorb or delay runoff; the unchecked development in the Marikina Valley that led to rivers and esteros – natural drainage ways – as well as man-made floodways to be covered or blocked by roads and settlements; the floodplain to basically lose its absorptive capacity because the once permeable soil has been replaced by impermeable cement; and other factors.
It is unfortunate that Metro Manila – Imperial Manila, as a friend recently reminded me – takes notice only when it takes centerstage. The fact of the matter is that this problem in various states of severity has been occurring all over the country for years. It is happening in every plot of agricultural land that has been converted to a glittering, gated subdivision, in every mountain that rapidly loses its cover because of illegal logging, each time the flow of a river or other water body is controlled by humans to meet the ever-increasing demand for water, power and space.
But these recurring issues have been continuously glazed over by people in political power, financial influence, technical know-how or simple human necessity (and that means all of us). Why? Simply because we think we can.
We cannot. That much is obvious now. It’s about time that we face the issues head-on, and ask the hard questions that we have been ignoring for so long. Most of these questions begin with why.
Why did water flow down as fast as it did?
Why did it stay in the valley, when we had Marikina River and the floodway and all the passageways that, by nature, are supposed to lead the water out? More importantly, why hasn’t the water flowed out, one week after the rain?
Why were so caught unaware and offguard? Couldn’t it have been prevented?
Why have the urban development plans of 30 years ago remained in the bookshelves of the government, rotting away into oblivion when they should have been followed and implemented to, at the very least, avert disaster?
And while we’re at it, why are the hundreds upon hundreds of local, regional, national plans all around this archipelago remained tucked away as well? Are they waiting for their own disasters, too? If only these best laid plans could talk.
Why were people in those affected areas unaware of the risk they were taking by living there?
Why do our policy and local guidelines lack the teeth to ensure that our resources are not abused?
Some of these are gradually being answered by planning experts who have been doing their work far longer than I have (the suddenly famous MMETROPLAN was created five years before I was born). In the coming days they will come out to explain what may have, in the past, fallen on deaf ears.
These questions must also be answered by other sectors of our society, and that includes you, dear reader, because we are all in this together. I also hope that you ask more questions.
A note to fellow environmental/urban and regional planners: we can’t simply wash our hands of this mess. We are just as easily to blame as the other players in planning game. The local government may be the arbiter and implementor, the executive may have the power, but the technical knowledge and the task of imparting it effectively rest upon us. We so often justify the inaction of government officials and the stubbornness of private developers and civilians as their lack of appreciation for the insights and advice that we provide. But does that make us less guilty?
No. In fact it makes us more so. Because as planners we are blessed (or cursed) with the innate ability (or acquired skill) to put ourselves in other people’s shoes. This is key. This is the secret to effective planning. Knowing this, we should have taken the extra effort to reach a common ground, with a thorough understanding of different perspectives. In the same breath, we must never compromise the one principle that underlies everything that we do: sustainable development. We must always stand for it, no matter how tempting it is to succumb to the convenience of short-term, profitable solutions instead of long-term plans that also have longer ROIs. Even though we may get into philosophical tussles with those who control the financing for development. And despite our personal desire for career success, which could take us away from places where we are most needed.
Planning is not just a profession. It is not just a job. It is a vocation. To planners, the practice of environmental planning is something you must dedicate your life to, knowing that entire communities will be affected by what you do. It is a way of life. So for us to simply place blame on other sectors or individuals is a bit shameful, because it means we have been remiss in fulfilling our own purpose.
I am glad that finally, people are beginning to take a closer, harder look at the concept of sustainability. Sad that it had to take the death of nearly 300 and the displacement of hundreds of thousands. Sadder to realize that we could have done more to make learning less painful.
But we must replace sadness with hope. Now is the time for rebuilding. We should all take with us the harsh lesson that the most powerful element on Earth, water, has given us. Moreover, we must move forward with the best of intentions and a greater sense of honesty about what should be done, as opposed to what we can get away with.
We can’t go back. Like it or not, things have changed; it is and should no longer be business as usual. There is no returning to the life of blissful ignorance. We must soldier on, no matter how inconvenient, uncomfortable or terrifying the truth in front of us can be. It is the only way we can survive.
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