Crisis Management
By Chip Tsao | published Dec 04, 2008
If a serious terrorist attack hits Hong Kong, do you think the SAR government could cope with it as well as India did? Not quite, considering the crisis management mess the government made of the much-delayed chartered flights sent to Bangkok to pick up a few hundred stranded Hong Kong tourists.
While even Macau was swift to act, Hong Kong was reluctant to get around to it because the government has a fundamental fear: decision-making. It took days to hesitate over the issue, even though it would take only an hour during a cabinet meeting to sort out the costs. Which would only be something between $500,000 and $1 million—a pretty good deal compared to the $20 million in annual salaries the government pays newly appointed undersecretaries and political assistants who serve as little more than public laughing stocks.
What is leadership? Let’s say it means spin-doctoring and getting things under control. So let’s imagine a leadership scenario for this situation. The government would instruct a press secretary to call a few TV and newspaper bosses and ask them to send their reporters (in the case of Hong Kong, fresh college grads, who speak broken English and will happily bring along their teddy bears and Hello Kitty dolls) on a trip to Thailand. They’d be told before departure how honored they should feel to be able to witness Hong Kong history in the making. No doubt they were selected because their talents as war correspondents have long been recognized.
All a leader would need to do is call a meeting with the director of civil aviation and the consul-general of Thailand to ensure that the chartered flights will arrive and depart in accordance with all proper safety regulations at the Bangkok military airport. You always have to be a bit careful with guys carrying guns—soldiers handle things differently, so the consul-general would be the one to bear the ultimate responsibility in case one of the flights explodes as a result of a few overlooked take-off procedures.
Then, with every Hong Kong tourist rescued and safely strapped into the plane, a TV reporter and cameraman would interview one of the old ladies who had gone to Bangkok to worship the four-faced Buddha. Holding a portrait of Donald Tsang, the reporter would ask her, “Did you know it was the order of this man to send this chartered flight, compliments of Hong Kong’s taxpayers, to save you and your family from the brink of death on a possible killing field?” The old nanny would probably break into tears and kiss the portrait with gratitude and joy. This would be shown on the evening’s TV news. With our bow-tied hero in charge, we will always be as safe and spoiled as the Americans. A bit crude, but this is how the Brits used to do it—though they had a little more subtlety. Remember that the hospitals here are still named Queen Mary, Queen Elizabeth or Prince of Wales, in case you forget who you owe your life to after being discharged from them in one piece.
If a serious terrorist attack hits Hong Kong, do you think the SAR government could cope with it as well as India did? Not quite, considering the crisis management mess the government made of the much-delayed chartered flights sent to Bangkok to pick up a few hundred stranded Hong Kong tourists.
While even Macau was swift to act, Hong Kong was reluctant to get around to it because the government has a fundamental fear: decision-making. It took days to hesitate over the issue, even though it would take only an hour during a cabinet meeting to sort out the costs. Which would only be something between $500,000 and $1 million—a pretty good deal compared to the $20 million in annual salaries the government pays newly appointed undersecretaries and political assistants who serve as little more than public laughing stocks.
What is leadership? Let’s say it means spin-doctoring and getting things under control. So let’s imagine a leadership scenario for this situation. The government would instruct a press secretary to call a few TV and newspaper bosses and ask them to send their reporters (in the case of Hong Kong, fresh college grads, who speak broken English and will happily bring along their teddy bears and Hello Kitty dolls) on a trip to Thailand. They’d be told before departure how honored they should feel to be able to witness Hong Kong history in the making. No doubt they were selected because their talents as war correspondents have long been recognized.
All a leader would need to do is call a meeting with the director of civil aviation and the consul-general of Thailand to ensure that the chartered flights will arrive and depart in accordance with all proper safety regulations at the Bangkok military airport. You always have to be a bit careful with guys carrying guns—soldiers handle things differently, so the consul-general would be the one to bear the ultimate responsibility in case one of the flights explodes as a result of a few overlooked take-off procedures.
Then, with every Hong Kong tourist rescued and safely strapped into the plane, a TV reporter and cameraman would interview one of the old ladies who had gone to Bangkok to worship the four-faced Buddha. Holding a portrait of Donald Tsang, the reporter would ask her, “Did you know it was the order of this man to send this chartered flight, compliments of Hong Kong’s taxpayers, to save you and your family from the brink of death on a possible killing field?” The old nanny would probably break into tears and kiss the portrait with gratitude and joy. This would be shown on the evening’s TV news. With our bow-tied hero in charge, we will always be as safe and spoiled as the Americans. A bit crude, but this is how the Brits used to do it—though they had a little more subtlety. Remember that the hospitals here are still named Queen Mary, Queen Elizabeth or Prince of Wales, in case you forget who you owe your life to after being discharged from them in one piece.
Labels: Politically Incorrect, 陶傑
posted by Gemini Saga at 12:00 AM
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