An estimated 230,000 people died in the Asian Tsunami of 2004. The 2005 earthquake in Kashmir claimed between 70,000 and 90,000 lives, depending on the estimates one chooses to rely on. The earthquake in Haiti claimed as many as 230,000 lives. These disasters were all tragic, and resulted in a global outpouring of charity, to the tune of a combined $17 billion. The death tolls were headline grabbing, heart wrenching, and sympathy inspiring. The resulting emotions at the sheer devastation, punctuated by high death tolls, convinced people to reach deep into their pockets and donate generously. It was enough to force governments to pledge massive sums, ex-Presidents to mobilise and promise to use their considerable charm and swagger to not only secure pledges, but also to act as trustworthy custodians in their distribution.
In comparison, the recent floods in Pakistan appear tame. A mere 1,600 people estimated dead. A paltry number when compared to the previous major disasters. Even the earthquakes in Iran and China had more casualties. The fear is that lower death tolls would translate into less sympathy, which in itself may translate to less aid and charitable contributions. When thinking about the floods I was reminded of a discussion I had with a colleague post the July 7th bombings in London. The colleague refused to take the tube to work, deciding instead to add an hour to his journey by walking every day. We had a lively debate about the futility of trying to avoid an untimely death, and the nature of destiny. During that debate he said something which has stuck with me ever since, "It's not dying I'm afraid of, but there are things that are worse than death."
The more I thought about what he said, the more I was struck by his words. Which brings me back to the statistics I've quoted above. Above the numbers of corpses of those that tragically lost their lives in each of the disasters is a more telling number; the number of people "affected". The dead are just that – dead. Whilst we should mourn the dead, and feel a tragic sense of loss, we can do nothing for them. They are gone, resigned to our memories and kept alive within the people that they knew. Our charity is reserved strictly for the living – they are the ones that we can help, they are the ones that we can make a difference for –and ultimately, given the circumstance, it is them who we can save to ensure that the final death tolls aren't higher. When we give aid, the money goes toward sustaining and protecting the vulnerable living. And given the conditions, many of them are on very limited timescale within which we have to act in order to ensure they remain members of that exclusive state of being. Without our support they are resigned to become part of the depressing statistic of those "lost" – but in these instances we had an opportunity to ensure they wouldn't be.
Many of these people are alive in conditions that hang somewhere between life and death. That may be worse than death. Which once again brings me back to the statistics. Approx 11 million people were "affected" by the three previous described disasters – 5min the Tsunami, and approx 3m each in the Kashmir and Haiti earthquakes. The numbers affected in the current crisis are estimated to be above 13 million, more than all three combined. When weighing up the decision of whether to donate, and if so, how much, we should be guided by those that we can still help, and if we are to do so, it would suggest that Pakistan currently needs generous support.
When we react to disasters we should ensure that our focus is not on the number dead, but on the number that hover in a state of purgatory; the number who we can actually assist, and who the money, food, shelter, medicine, and other forms of aid can still help. In business education we are constantly told about our "sphere of influence" and trying to expand it. The dead are beyond that sphere and always will remain so, it's the living dead that we must ensure aren't.
