Authorities suddenly need answers to questions that few people were contemplating last night.
The rapid collapse of the Francis Scott Key Bridge in Baltimore early this morning touched off a frantic search for survivors—and gave Americans a frightening reminder of the fragility of the many systems that allow us to go about our lives. The sun rose to reveal twisted metal atop the cargo ship Dali, a long underwater obstruction keeping ships from moving in and out of the port of Baltimore, a major tear in the transportation network, and great uncertainty about how the catastrophe would ripple across the economy.
When the errant Dali struck a support pillar, motorists were using the bridge and work crews were fixing potholes on it. Local officials’ immediate focus is, as it should be, on rescuing any who might have survived and comforting the families still waiting for news. Authorities quickly and rightly put to rest speculation about terrorism. An investigation into what happened on the ship has been announced. In the meantime, the public and its elected leaders must improvise answers to a question that few people were contemplating last night: What would happen if a major piece of our infrastructure disappeared in the dark? How do we respond to what could be a lengthy disruption to a lifeline of the region’s maritime and transportation networks?
Whether any bridge’s support structure could withstand a direct hit by a ship as large as the Dali is an open question at this hour. Maryland Governor Wes Moore said at a news conference this morning that the fallen Baltimore bridge had been “fully up to code.”
A lot of American infrastructure is in poor shape. What’s clear across the country is that, even as the U.S. tries to ramp up repairs to our old bridges, rails, roads, and dams, we are not keeping up with their decay—much less bringing them into the modern era, building more redundancy into our systems, or developing contingency plans for sudden disruptions. We need to spend more time and resources thinking about Plan B.
In Baltimore, some immediate problems are already evident: The now-destroyed bridge was the preferred highway route for trucks carrying materials—such as bulk gas, explosives, and radioactive matter—that are too hazardous to pass through the city’s major surface roads or underwater tunnels below the harbor.
The waters around the bridge are also disrupted. Baltimore’s port supports more than 15,000 jobs, by one estimate, and is a major importation point for cars and trucks, construction materials, and goods affecting many other industries. Ship hulls rip easily; figuring out which debris remains underwater and removing threats to maritime navigation will take some time. Boats and ships will be restricted in their ability to travel near the wreckage, until at least the pieces of the bridge are excavated from the waters.
For many people, the most visible disruption will be to general vehicular traffic in the Baltimore and Washington, D.C., areas and throughout the Northeast Corridor. Employers will have to relieve commuters from needing to travel; schoolchildren and others will experience delays if not cancellations; work and learn-from-home alternatives, at least for some time, will need to be instituted.
None of this is easily practiced, but maybe now is the time we begin to plan for it. The destruction of the Key Bridge appears to be a tragic accident, but it also offers a lesson.
Those who plan complex systems often talk in terms of avoiding “single points of failure.” But the vulnerability of key pieces of infrastructure is all the more reason to plan in advance for how our transportation and economic systems can bounce back quickly from sudden setbacks.
People in the emergency-management field throw the word resiliency around a lot. But resiliency isn’t something that a society just has; the word itself comes from a Latin verb meaning “jump” or “leap,” and it suggests movement and action—the consistent effort to prevent catastrophes whenever possible and limit their harms whenever necessary. The bridge collapse in Baltimore underscores the need for more of that kind of planning—not just bracing for impact and hoping for the best.
