Opinion Piece: From 'Acting Realistic' to 'Verifiably Resilient' – A Stress Test of Penghu's Air Disaster Drill

Having long participated in military exercises and disaster relief operations—from past experiences in military unit drills to current efforts promoting civil disaster preparedness—I have always focused on one fundamental question: Is the value of an exercise in smoothly completing predetermined procedures, or in applying moderate pressure to uncover where the system might truly fail?

Military exercises and disaster rescue operations differ fundamentally in mission nature and operational logic, and cannot be casually interchanged. However, when facing uncertain situations, how to form shared awareness, make decisions, and maintain organizational function does offer mutual lessons.

Real disasters do not follow scripts. Information may be incomplete, communications disrupted, and resources may not arrive as expected. Different agencies, presented with the same information, may still reach different conclusions. No matter how comprehensive a plan appears on paper, once on-site, we inevitably return to several basic questions: Who makes the decision? Who carries it out? Where are the resources? Can they connect with each other?

Recently, I was invited to serve as the facilitator for the '2026 Airport Off-Site Air Disaster Rescue Drill' tabletop exercise (TTX), jointly organized by the Ministry of Transportation and Communications and Penghu County Government. This drill followed the U.S. Department of Homeland Security’s 'Homeland Security Exercise and Evaluation Program' (HSEEP) framework, adopting a 'scenario-based, no-script' approach and linking into subsequent field exercises to evaluate cross-agency response, information transmission, and resource integration capabilities.

For me, the most important aspect of this exercise was not how complex the scenario was, but adhering to one principle: The scenario is not the purpose of the drill, but the condition that reveals capability.

In recent years, the Executive Yuan’s Disaster Prevention Office has promoted structured exercise planning and evaluation mechanisms, placing greater emphasis on 'exercise objectives' and 'capability validation.' The role of scenarios is not to craft an exciting narrative, but to create conditions where participants must confront missions and decisions, thereby revealing otherwise invisible problems through the process.

It's not about reciting regulations—it's about making decisions.

Tabletop exercises often fall into a trap: everyone knows they should 'act according to law,' but when pressed further—'Who decides in an actual event? Who takes responsibility? Where do resources come from? Who do we coordinate with?'—answers become far less straightforward.

Regulations and procedures are important. But a disaster scene won’t resolve itself just because someone finishes reading the rules.

The facilitator’s role isn’t to provide answers for participants, but to place the questions on the table, enabling professionals with different expertise and responsibilities to clearly articulate their perspectives. This exercise involved more than just on-site rescue—it examined whether different systems could truly integrate when deployed simultaneously.

The greatest fear in cross-agency response is often not lack of information, but differing interpretations of the same information.

Without shared cognition, consistent action is difficult to achieve. Therefore, exercises cannot merely assess whether procedures were completed. Just because something is clearly written in a plan doesn’t mean it will hold up on-site. Only by placing systems within the exercise can we see whether authority, resources, and coordination truly connect.

Penghu deserves credit for its willingness to openly discuss problems.

What impressed me most about this drill wasn’t the scale of the scenario, but the attitude of Penghu County Government and participating agencies toward confronting issues. In the absence of standard scripted responses,各单位 were willing to start from their actual capacities and openly discuss real-world challenges like inter-agency coordination, medical evacuation, information integration, external support, and sustained response—rather than rushing to prove 'we already have regulations.'

To me, encountering problems during an exercise isn’t a penalty; failing to see them is the real risk.

Located on an outlying island, Penghu faces transportation constraints and resource access challenges distinct from Taiwan’s main island. When a major incident occurs, beyond immediate rescue, the more pressing reality is that external support cannot instantly arrive. Thus, resilience isn’t just asking 'Will support come?' but also 'Can we continue operating before outside help arrives?'

This is a question I’ve consistently emphasized in recent years when considering exercises from strategic drills, project management, and business continuity perspectives. Resilience doesn’t demand all functions remain 100% operational at all times, but rather knowing what matters most, which functions must not stop, and where limited resources should be prioritized—even under deteriorating conditions and resource constraints.

These capabilities are rarely visible in plans during peacetime—they can only be validated through exercises.

Good exercises aren’t afraid to expose problems.

Another commendable aspect of this drill was the follow-up field exercise after the tabletop simulation. Tabletop exercises test 'Do we know what to do?' but only on-site implementation reveals 'Can we actually do it?' These are not redundant—they examine the same response system at different levels. Methods deemed feasible in a conference room still face limitations of space, time, personnel, equipment, and information on the ground.

Therefore, exercises must go beyond 'Was it done?' to further ask 'Was it effective after being done?'

The drill concluded with an immediate post-event feedback session (Hot Wash), not to assign credit or blame, but to document operational strengths, coordination gaps, and priority improvement items. If all problems disappear once the exercise ends, then half the work remains undone.

This is precisely what makes the Penghu drill most valuable: treating 'problem discovery' as an achievement, not a failure.

A mature government doesn’t mean having no gaps; a mature exercise isn’t one with flawless procedures. Whether a system can learn depends on whether, after problems are seen, they lead back to improvements in plans, procedures, resource allocation, and re-validation in future exercises.

Exercises aren’t meant to prove we’re ready—they’re meant to show us where we’re still unprepared.

Moving from 'acting realistic' to 'verifiably resilient' isn’t about making exercises harder, but more honest.

Exercises can be observed; resilience can only be verified.