Beyond questions of "could it happen here?" and "are we truly prepared to manage such a disaster?" Hurricane Katrina raises real concerns for the field of urban planning. In the wake of Katrina, a number of key questions have emerged, not just here in Hawai'i but in communities throughout the world. While these aren't exactly new concerns, we in Hawai'i should be especially attuned to these issues.

In the wake of any natural disaster one of the first questions asked is, "Should the city have been built there?" In New Orleans, we've known for some time that this awful scenario could occur. How did we let this happen?

Like beaches that gradually accrete over time, cities have also spread out over areas that probably shouldn't be inhabited, such as the Marina District in San Francisco.

Look at our own coastlines. Rather than maintain setbacks and allow natural coastal forces to do their thing, we've intensified the level and density of development in hazard-prone areas.

Land-use planners have become the Rodney (can't get no respect) Dangerfields of our regulatory system. Dominated by lawyers and developers focused not so much on hazards as on property rights, planning and zoning have been largely turned over to the marketplace.

It seems that just about anything can be built almost anywhere if you spend enough. We need periodic reminders of the harshness of nature and of the fact that flood plains and tsunami inundation zones, as well as hillsides and other undeveloped areas, perhaps should not be developed, precisely because of the hazards exposed by events such as Katrina.

Perhaps rather than automatically rebuilding in places where severe hazards have been exposed, we should look for alternative sites for redevelopment. This might be easier to do before, rather than after, an episode like Katrina.

We saw a big push for hurricane roof clips after Hurricane 'Iniki and temblor-resistant building facades after the Kobe and Northridge earthquakes. We were reminded of the need to clear our drainage canals after flooding in Manoa.

Katrina, too, exposed multiple weakness in our building codes — not just in terms of resistance to wind damage but also the deleterious effects of prolonged flooding.

I'm not advocating concrete bunker designs for hazardous areas. The French Quarter, with its quaint, historic architectural style built on higher ground, seems to have fared better than other parts of the Big Easy. Yet we should be more focused on what constitutes an appropriate style of building construction, given our vulnerability to tropical storms.

How will all these tile roofs and glassy buildings and oceanfront palaces fare under a Category 4 hurricane?

As a society, we seem ill-equipped to mentally process the mathematical risks associated with an ever-compounding set of hazards and potential disasters. We need to measure and assess the risks of downed power lines, interrupted communication links, and breakdowns in our water and sewer services.

What would happen to us — here in the middle of the Pacific — if a hurricane of Katrina's force were to bear down on Honolulu?

What would happen to our hospitals and emergency rooms? What would be the plight of all those people in intensive care or in nursing homes? What would happen to our prisons? Our system of delivery of food, water, clothing and shelter?

What sorts of toxins and pathogens would be released into our environment if we experienced the sort of disaster that hit New Orleans? And what about all that traffic as people and their cars clog the streets?

We'd like to think that the government and military response would be better, more effective and more immediate than what occurred on the Gulf Coast.

But remember, we're in the middle of the Pacific. Tens of thousands of us can't simply drive to higher ground in a bordering state. Many of us would harbor the same instincts — to stay and "ride out the storm."

In addition to having a clearer sense of all the risks — from flooding to fire to nuclear mishaps at Pearl Harbor — we must also think about effects of catastrophe on our communities and civil society.

While it may be difficult to envision the looting and crime that occurred in New Orleans as what could or might happen in Ho-nolulu, it might be instructive to recognize that there are significant ethnic and class-based cleavages within our own city. While one would hope that our response to a calamity would begin with a strong spirit of community, one must consider what happens to ordinary people pushed to extremes.

How civil would you be if you lost everything only to be herded like an animal from place to place without adequate food, water, shelter and other necessities?

Here in Hawai'i, we must do a better job of identifying vulnerable members of our society. We should know where they live and devise a plan for helping each other in times of need and distress.

Which parts of town are most likely to be cut off or isolated because of weather or flood-related damage? Have we really assessed the flood potential in the 'Ewa Plain, where massive amounts of new housing has been constructed?

What roads or sections of highways and major thoroughfares are likely to be impassable? How will our public transit system respond before, during and after a severe weather event? Are there really adequate plans for our densely populated urban communities — downtown, Waikiki, and other areas with high population concentrations?

Are there adequate procedures for students, military dependents and other long-term visitors? Do we have enough social workers and mental-health professionals to aid in the recovery? And what about our pets or animals that may not be allowed into shelters and safe zones?

Do we have any major infrastructure deficiencies equivalent to the levees and flood walls which were breached in New Orleans? Do we have adequate retention areas and flood basins?

Do our hospitals, police and fire stations, and other emergency-response facilities have adequate backup power and communications equipment to handle a prolonged breakdown in urban infrastructure? Do our personnel have adequate training and procedures in place and know how to respond and where to go when communications are down?

Where are the staging areas and emergency mass shelters for our people should they be given the order to evacuate? How will these shelters be stocked with provisions in the event of a truly serious hurricane?

One has to believe that we would have a much more coordinated response among federal, state and local officials here in Hawai'i. But then many of the same questions about "who's in charge" could also apply here as well. What is the chain of command during a disaster, and who is responsible for setting priorities and diverting crucial resources?

Who makes the critical decisions in terms of when and where to focus on search and rescue, law enforcement, evacuation orders, and cleanup and recovery?

One lesson to take from Katrina that I've heard repeatedly is that an ounce of prevention is worth a pound (or even a ton) of cure. In examining what happened not just on the Gulf Coast, but also in places as diverse as Shanghai, Kobe, Cuba, Florida, Thailand and Kaua'i, there do seem to be important lessons.

The most obvious is the importance of planning and preparedness — at all levels. It's not just about individuals and families knowing where to go and what to do in the event of a big disaster. Institutions and government agencies must have a plan.

There also needs to be strong, effective communication. While some of this has been enhanced by various technologies — the problems of a "digital divide" or other barriers need to be addressed before, rather than after, the perfect storm hits.

Above all, ideas related to community and the values of our host culture with regard to aloha, 'ohana and stewardship of the land and people in Hawai'i undoubtedly will be called upon in these times of need.

Many residents of New Orleans may choose to never return to their homes. Urban historians point to the Galveston, Texas, flood at the turn of the century as one of major factors leading to the growth and dominance of Houston.

The devastation of New Orleans' tourism and convention business is particularly noteworthy for Hawai'i. And the longer-term impact of Katrina on oil prices, federal spending, insurance and the economy is yet to be fully understood.

One would hope that some serious reckoning regarding the appropriate role of government and markets would also occur. Perhaps too much of the planning of our cities and towns has been privatized.

Health and safety concerns as well as issues regarding large-scale infrastructure and public services will, undoubtedly, rise in importance, yet as the post-9/11 experience has shown, we do have a tendency to quickly resume business as usual.

Here in Hawai'i, there does need to be more assessment of the unique challenges and opportunities related to our remote island geography and our avowed "sense of community."

Perhaps there is also a connection between efforts to promote sustainability, decentralized electricity generation and diversification of our economic base and being better able to respond to disasters.

Community-based approaches to securing basic necessities of life, and delivery of crucial goods and services, might be more effective in times of crises. Empowering neighborhood services and satellite facilities may be especially important when a big disaster strikes.

Katrina serves as a wake-up call to our community. The ghastly images of shattered lives, death and destruction from the natural events and the ensuing breakdown of community serves as a harbinger of what could happen here.

Let us not just fix our sea walls and unplug our drainage canals but also work to strengthen the resilience of our community.