By Todd T. DeVoe, CEM, MPA
Pause and reflect on this: history is filled with moments when people stood silent as their societies collapsed around them, none more emblematic than the fall of Rome. As flames consumed the city, Nero played on, indifferent. But the more profound tragedy wasn’t merely his instability or negligence. It was the paralysis of those who knew better. The senators, administrators, and caretakers of the public trust had the authority to act. They had the duty to speak. And yet, they chose comfort over courage, obedience over leadership.
That story echoes today. Across this nation, institutions vital to preserving life and safety, like FEMA and the National Weather Service, are under political pressure, facing funding instability, and subject to public skepticism. The professionals within them continue to serve with quiet dedication, often thanklessly. But what happens when those who can speak up for them, those of us in emergency management, public administration, and civic leadership, choose not to?
Plato warned us in The Republic: “One of the penalties for refusing to participate in politics is that you end up being governed by your inferiors.” In this, he offered more than a critique of political apathy; he outlined the moral consequences of neglecting one’s duty to the common good. As Plato saw, government is not a stage for self-interest but a structure meant to elevate justice and truth. When those ideals are abandoned or left undefended, collapse is not only likely, it is deserved.
John Locke argued that the fundamental purpose of government is to safeguard the natural rights of life, liberty, and property. This isn’t just a philosophical abstraction; it’s the moral foundation of democratic governance. When a government fails to protect those rights, it violates the social contract and erodes the trust that binds a society together. Our mission reflects that ideal in emergency management. We are often the last line of defense in preserving life, protecting property, and mitigating environmental harm. In many ways, we operationalize the social contract in real time, standing in the gap during crises, ensuring that communities are not abandoned, and holding firm to the values that define public service. When institutions like FEMA and the National Weather Service come under pressure or attack, defending them is not politics but principle. We must uphold that contract and ensure it does not fail when people need it most.
Political philosopher Hannah Arendt spoke of the “banality of evil,” the quiet, bureaucratic complicity that enables authoritarianism and societal decay. Her insight is especially sobering for public servants. Harm does not always arrive with banners and violence. Sometimes, it comes in the form of silence. It comes when we stop pushing back and refuse to use our voice, platforms, and positions to shield those who carry the burden of public safety.
FEMA and the National Weather Service are not political pawns; they are the backbone of our nation’s preparedness and resilience. The men and women who work in these agencies are not abstractions; they are our colleagues, friends, and partners in every crisis.
So the question is simple: Will we be remembered as the ones who stayed silent when our institutions were under siege? Or will we be the ones who stood up, spoke out, and defended the guardians of the public good?
Now is not the time for neutrality. Now is the time for courage.
This is a public episode. If you’d like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit emnetwork.substack.com/subscribe
