Author: alaskaadmin

Many Coloradans may never get an alert that could save their life during a disaster.

And the alerts that go out may not easily be understood by the people who do get them.

We are social scientists who study emergency alerts and warnings, the challenges that exist in getting emergency information to the public, and ways to fix these issues.

Research two of us – Carson MacPherson-Krutsky and Mary Painter – did with researcher Melissa Villarreal shows only 4 in 10 Colorado residents have opted in to receive local emergency alerts. And many alerts may not be written with complete information, translated into the languages residents speak, or put into formats accessible to people with vision or hearing loss. This means some of our most vulnerable neighbors could miss crucial information during a crisis.

A decentralized alert system

Alerts are complex. They can come from a variety of official sources, including 911 centers, weather forecast centers and others. Alerts can also come in many forms, ranging from emails and texts to sirens and radio broadcasts.

Our study, mandated and funded by Colorado House Bill 23-1237, focused on understanding alert systems in Colorado after the Grizzly Creek Fire in 2020 and the Marshall Fire in 2021.

These fires were destructive and highlighted issues related to emergency alerting. Alerts about the fires and calls to evacuate were delayed and inconsistently received. Most were only available in English despite census data that shows 1 in 10 residents of Eagle and Garfield counties speak Spanish at home and only “speak English less than ‘very well.’”

The resulting legislation focused on how to make emergency alerts in Colorado accessible to all, but especially those with disabilities and with limited-English proficiency.

As social scientists who study disasters, we know that hazards, like earthquakes and wildfires, reveal inequities and that certain groups fare worse and take longer to recover. People with disabilities have higher rates of death from disasters. This is not because these populations are inherently less able to respond, but because emergency planning and systems may not account for their specific needs.

Our Colorado study used interviews and a statewide survey of 222 officials that send alerts to better understand the challenges of providing alerts across the state and reaching at-risk populations.

A patchwork system

The state of Colorado does not have a uniform alert system. Local areas determine the alert systems they will use.

Some alerts get sent through systems that require people to opt in. This means that people sign up and choose to receive notifications. Neighboring counties often use different opt-in alert systems, meaning individuals who travel to different counties for work or recreation may need to register for multiple systems. Examples of these systems include Everbridge, used by Boulder County, and CodeRed, used by Adams and Park counties.

The success of these systems in an emergency relies on the community signing up for alerts.

We found that registering for alert systems was a barrier for everyone, but especially those with limited-English proficiency and with disabilities. This is because they may not be aware of the systems that are accessible to them or they are wary of providing personal information, and depending on their location, alerts may only be offered in English.

Another system is “opt out,” meaning people will receive alerts by default unless they turn them off. These include Wireless Emergency Alerts, or WEAs. These messages get broadcast through cellphone towers to phones in a specific geographic area. So if you have a cellphone in a WEA alert boundary, you will get an alert. WEAs are used in Colorado to target specific regions in danger, such as an area that needs to evacuate or for an Amber Alert.

There is no national standard or guidance for opt-in or opt-out systems, which can lead to inconsistencies in how people get alerts.

Lack of resources limits alerting authorities

We found that though authorities often want to provide alerts in other languages and accessible formats, they have significant resource constraints. Time, staff, money or training can all limit the level of accessibility they can provide.

Sixty-four percent of the authorities we surveyed said they lacked funding to make alerts more inclusive.

More than a third of our respondents didn’t know if their systems could provide alerts in languages other than English or for people with disabilities. This speaks to a need for better training on how these systems work and how to use them effectively.

An alert is complete if it includes information about the source, hazard, location and time. Recently, researchers found that fewer than 10% of all Nationwide Wireless Emergency Alerts issued from 2012 to 2022 were complete.

One of us – Micki Olson – worked with the federal government to develop the Message Design Dashboard to help alerting authorities craft clear and comprehensive emergency messages.

Fifty-six out of 64 counties in Colorado are an Integrated Public Alert and Warning System authority, which means they can send alerts across multiple platforms at once. This can improve alert access since it broadens who alerts reach.

Not all counties have this option, and even the ones who do, don’t always use it. In our study, authorities noted limited staff capacity, funds and lack of time prevents them from getting or using the IPAWS system.

“We simply do not have the resources, both financial and people, to deploy all of these systems,” a survey respondent from Gunnison County said.

Alert systems were not built to be accessible

The final issue we identified is that alert systems were not developed with accessible options and functionality like video or image options. For example, people who are blind or have low vision won’t have access to a message unless they enable text-speech features on their phone in advance.

The WEA system only allows alerts to be sent in English or Spanish. Characters like accents and tildes cannot be included. Expansion of language options was planned but is now on hold for unclear reasons. Some counties have the resources to make alerts available in additional languages, but most do not.

Almost 900,000 Coloradans speak a language other than English. According to the Migration Policy Institute, more than 230,000 Coloradans have difficulty comprehending and communicating in English.

Where do we go from here?

Recent events, including the Palisades and Eaton fires in California and the devastating floods in Kerr County, Texas, demonstrate how critical it is that timely and accessible emergency alerts reach everyone, but especially the most vulnerable individuals.

However, these systems are complex, and everyone from individuals to local government can play a part in improving them.

• Federal and local governments can allocate funds to update and standardize systems. They can also implement training and procedures to ensure alerts are effective and inclusive.

• Authorities that send alerts can partner more closely with trusted community organizations and networks to reach diverse audiences.

• Researchers can identify how to better tailor systems to meet community needs.

• Individuals can learn about and sign up for alerts. To do so, visit local government websites or enter “emergency alerts” and the name of your county or city in an online search.

Carson MacPherson-Krutsky works for the Natural Hazards Center at the University of Colorado Boulder. Through the Center, she receives funding from the State of Colorado, NSF, USACE, USGS and others.

Mary Angelica Painter works for the Natural Hazards Center at the University of Colorado Boulder. Through the Center, she receives funding from agencies including NSF, USACE, USGS and others.

Micki Olson has received funding from FEMA and NOAA.

​Politics + Society – The Conversation

Shortly following the fatal shooting of conservative activist Charlie Kirk, many politicians and pundits were quick to highlight the importance of civil discourse.

Utah Gov. Spencer Cox called for an “off-ramp” to political hostilities, while California Gov. Gavin Newsom released a statement condemning political violence. He lauded Kirk’s “commitment to debate,” adding, “The best way to honor Charlie’s memory is to continue his work: engage with each other, across ideology, through spirited discourse.” Political commentator Ezra Klein wrote, “You can dislike much of what Kirk believed and the following statement is still true: Kirk was practicing politics in exactly the right way.”

With so many Americans consuming political content via siloed social media feeds and awash in algorithms that stoke outrage, these ideals may seem quaint, if not impossible.

Clearly, murder is a no-go. But what does it mean to practice politics “the right way?” How can people engage “across ideology” in a “spirited” way?

Well, one way to not practice politics the right way is to limit the other side from having a voice of authority. Since 2016, the organization Kirk co-founded, Turning Point USA, has hosted the Professor Watchlist. The online database generated harassment campaigns against professors, leading to calls for firings, hate mail and death threats. To be sure, the left has not been without its own excesses of harassment in recent years.

Kirk was also known for going to college campuses and speaking to students: entering the lion’s den and affably challenging audiences to “change my mind.”

To me, the impulse to shut down the other side, combined with the “change my mind approach” to debate, has only exacerbated political polarization and entrenchment. Instead, I propose a few different ways of thinking about conversations with people whose views differ from your own.

The fantasy of swiftly changing minds

In my forthcoming book, “Rules for Reactionaries: How to Maintain Inequality and Stop Social Justice,” I explore the language strategies used to advance white supremacy and anti-feminism across U.S. politics and culture.

Deliberative democracy is the idea that decision-making and governance are arrived at through thoughtful, reasoned and respectful dialogue. This may take the shape of debates in Congress or robust questioning in town halls. But deliberative democracy also shapes the way all neighbors or citizens treat each other, whether on the street or at the dinner table.

I contend that a big stumbling block that prevents the U.S. from tackling its biggest problems is how Americans conceptualize deliberative democracy: There’s a fantasy that people’s minds can be easily changed, if only they’re given certain information or hear certain arguments.

In the 1990s, this was epitomized through former President Bill Clinton’s Initiative on Race, a program that he framed as a vehicle for social and political transformation. Clinton believed that an advisory board of experts could foster a meaningful national dialogue and produce necessary healing.

In response, conservative political figures objected both to the need for a conversation in the first place and to the makeup of the committee leading it.

By the time Clinton’s second term ended, the initiative quietly disappeared, only to be mentioned in passing in Clinton’s memoir. Yet with each subsequent racial flash point, from the arrest of Henry Louis Gates in 2009 to the murder of George Floyd, calls resurfaced for the national conversation. But race remains a politically and culturally salient issue.

Similarly, many Americans view friends, relatives and colleagues as targets for conversion. Because of the nature of my research, I often get a version of this question from my students: “How do you change someone’s mind if they say they’re a socialist?” Or they may frame it as, “I’ve got Thanksgiving with my family coming up, and my Uncle Johnny is so transphobic. How do I convince him to support trans rights?”

Cultural theorist Lauren Berlant would describe these encounters as moments of cruel optimism. There’s the belief that what you’re about to do is good and worthy. But time and again, you’re met with feelings of futility and frustration.

When debating politics, many people crave a chance to engage with someone they disagree with. There’s the hope of changing hearts and minds. But few minds – if any – change that quickly, and approaching these conversations as small windows of opportunity ends up being their downfall.

Opening minds instead of changing them

There are more fruitful approaches to conversation than merely trying to best someone in an argument by deploying buzzwords or “gotcha!” moments.

Rather than trying to immediately change someone’s mind, what if you entered a conversation with the goal of simply planting seeds? This approach transforms the dialogue from an attempted conversion into a legitimate conversation, wherein you’re merely offering your partner something to consider after the fact.

Another strategy involves remembering that conversations often have multiple audiences.

Consider the Thanksgiving dinner with Uncle Johnny. What if, instead of focusing on trying to convert him, the speaker recognized that there were other listeners at the table? Perhaps they could rethink their encounter not as converting an opponent, but as modeling to relatives how to have a conversation about one’s values with a loved one whom they vehemently disagree with. Or perhaps the speaker could recognize that a cousin at the table may be closeted, and take it upon themselves to model how to push back against transphobia.

In both cases, the conversion of Uncle Johnny ceases to be the objective. Civic dialogue and persuasion remain.

Change is slow but never futile

If the U.S. is going to heal its civic life through dialogue, I think it will require Americans to not just speak with those they disagree with, but to listen to them as well.

Krista Ratcliffe, a scholar of rhetoric at Arizona State University, has written about her concept of “rhetorical listening.” Listeners, she argues, must not simply be attuned to the words a speakers says, but also to the life experiences and ideologies that shape those words.

Rhetorical listening means avoiding the urge to one-up the opponent or convert the unwashed masses. Instead, you’re entering into dialogue from a position of curiosity, with a willingness to learn and grow.

Many people believe that the U.S. is at an inflection point. Will families and friendships continue to be torn apart? Will greater political polarization lead to more violence? Often it feels hopeless.

Like Sisyphus, many Americans probably feel like they continue to push a boulder up a hill, only for it to roll down the other side. The error would be for Americans to be surprised when the boulder rolls back down – shocked that there was no progress and that everyone has to start over again.

While the Sisyphean task of deliberative democracy requires that citizens push the boulder day in and day out, they should also recognize that as they push, the weight of the boulder as it’s collectively pushed will gradually and imperceptibly alter the terrain.

Moreover, as the French philosopher Albert Camus once wrote, it’s important to “imagine Sisyphus happy” – to continue to seize what joy can be had as this hard work plods along.

Lee Bebout does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

​Politics + Society – The Conversation