IN OTHER disasters, like cyclones, the lives lost in India have tended to be much greater than, say, in the developed world. The quick explanation for this phenomenon is to point to the inefficiency and corruption of governments at various levels. And no one can argue that this is not a factor. As the response to the earthquake has demonstrated once again, we have not even got our basic priorities right.

We still allow the symbolism of a VVIP visit to take precedence over the smooth flow of rescue and relief operations. Governments are also not always quick to learn lessons from a disaster. Even as Andhra Pradesh learnt, the hard way, how to reduce the human lives lost in a cyclone, neighbouring Orissa did not. And when policy makers do manage to learn the lessons on paper, their influence on actual practice tends to be subject to the vagaries of corruption. Basic zoning and building laws are broken with impunity in virtually every Indian town and city.

But important as the faults of the government are, they are not a complete explanation for the high death tolls. The norms are ultimately broken by individuals. Why do they ignore the question of safety? Why are they even willing to pay bribes to put their lives in danger? The complete answer to these questions is perhaps best left to sociologists. There may be a multiplicity of factors at play, some of which could be quite esoteric. How does one, for instance, explain an apparently common Indian belief that doing the right thing by a superstition or a ritual is more important than following elementary safety norms?

But in the midst of such esoteric factors there could also be a more mundane one. The awareness of the dangers posed by nature around us remains abysmally low. Whatever awareness there may have been within the traditional system has been lost with tradition being either dismissed or converted into a set of mechanical rituals. And that gap in knowledge has not been filled by an awareness of modem science. No one will be surprised if many of those in earthquake prone areas are not fully aware of the risk of a natural calamity. This lack of awareness is in part the result of illiteracy. Despite the advent of television, it is not easy to popularise scientific knowledge to the illiterate. But the problem is not one of the illiterate alone.

Even among the more literate, the awareness of and adherence to, safety standards is not very high. And oddly enough, the glorification of science may well have contributed to this scenario. Science education in this country has tended to bring along with it a complete faith in the power of modern technology to conquer nature. There is little or no awareness of the limits of modern technology. This faith is, in fact, so overwhelming that the need to modify technology to suit local conditions is rarely recognised. Thus, even those seeking stronger safer houses can pick modem technologies that do not take needs of c the local environment into account. This tendency to ignore the needs of the local environment is not just an individual failure. Policy makers too have often fallen into the same trap. In the national capital itself, we a have the case of household industry in being encouraged without considering environmental costs. The costs in of this policy error may not be as high as the Gujarat earthquake.

But they are not insignificant either. If the industries are not moved out, the price will be paid in terms of the health of Delhi?s citizens. And if they are moved out, the price will be paid in economic terms.The prospects of an immediate improvement in the awareness of the limits of modern technology do not not appear very bright. Those who are most aware of these risks are undoubtedly the environmentalists. But several of them tend to take extreme positions rejecting virtually all technological change. This makes it very difficult for them to communicate with those who have benefited from modern technology whether it is in agriculture or in industrial products. Environmentalists have tried to overcome this gap in communication by tapping personalities who have no trouble attracting public attention.

But these personalities do not always have credibility when speaking on scientific matters. Arundhati Roy's writing on scientific issues may have power and elegance, but it is not always easy for the uninitiated to decide it is not fiction. These conceptual difficulties in coming to terms with the limits of technology are compounded by the official policy towards maintaining environmental norms. The environmental policy maker typically takes on the role of a gatekeeper. Projects come up for environmental clearance at a late stage, when considerable costs have already been incurred. There is then the risk of significant losses if a project is not cleared. This prospect turns into pressure on policy makers to dear the project, if necessary by bending the rules. This approach rules out other less expensive ways of making investors aware of the limits of technology when dealing with nature. There could, for instance, be greater awareness of the low costs materials in construction that are better suited to local environmental requirements. Even after a problem has emerged, as in Delhi, there could be economic measures that help a smooth transfer of industries from residential to non-residential areas. A tax on industries in residential areas would both generate the resources to build alternative infrastructure as well as act as an incentive for industries to shift. There is thus a larger crisis in the way India as a society deals with nature; it is easy to miss this crisis in the pain of eth natural calamity. But unless we ask ourselves why we pay so little attention to safety, the death tolls in natural calamities willcontinue to mount.