If last week's senseless murders at Northern Illinois University teach us anything, it should be that even the most comprehensive security plan can never make us "completely safe."
Although NIU deployed officers to the scene of the shooting just two minutes after the rampage began, locked down the campus shortly thereafter and activated an e-mail alert system within 15 minutes, the school's best-laid plans did not prevent Steven Kazmierczak from killing five students and himself before a single officer could arrive.
Under the circumstances, it's hard to imagine anything else NIU could have reasonably done. But five innocent people are still dead, and students are justified in fearing for their safety.
That's why as colleges across the country struggle to learn from this third campus massacre in under a year, we should renew our praise for Duke's revised emergency management protocols, which rank among the best in the country. We must also recognize their limits, however.
There is no question that the new system-which emphasizes quick and easy access to information, redundancy and a centralized Web site (emergency.duke.edu) to communicate most effectively with the University community-leaves Duke much better prepared for large-scale emergencies of any sort, including severe weather, a shooting or even a terrorist attack.
But although the University should be lauded for upgrading its emergency response infrastructure, students should remain aware that the judgment of the people who run it remains questionable at best.
Take the Duke University Police Department. As Chronicle columnist Elliott Wolf revealed two weeks ago, the department is in crisis, with demoralized employees, underqualified managers and insufficient resources all jeopardizing students' safety.
In fact, it turns out that Duke's "manager of crime prevention" is actually a former food-service worker whose only "security" experience included a stint in the Air Force with Associate Vice President for Campus Safety and Security Aaron Graves. Another member of the DUPD's upper echelon-Maj. Gloria Graham-wasn't even a sworn police officer when she arrived at Duke, and she ultimately had to spend her first five months on the job attending the Durham Police Academy.
Given that deplorable state of affairs, one would think that Executive Vice President Tallman Trask (whose duties include campus safety) would want to let students know how he is responding to such serious charges. Is the department under review? Has any corrective action been taken?
Alas, the last time Trask addressed the topic was in September 2006, when he told The Chronicle he was considering reducing the size of the DUPD to save money-"the number of occasions where it's important to have an armed officer is somewhat less than you might think."
Interestingly, this high-level avoidance mirrors the response to serious questions that were raised about Duke's notoriously over-scheduled Counseling and Psychological Services in November 2006. Although CAPS services approximately one in 10 undergraduates each year (10 percent of whom have considered suicide), students in need often wait two to three weeks for a consultation, and the office's ability to provide the sort of ongoing, long-term support some undergrads need is severely limited.
More than 12 months later, CAPS has responded to those concerns largely by adding group seminars targeted at students struggling with stress and other emotional challenges-a laughable band-aid that does nothing for the students in greatest need.
In other words, although Duke excels at creating glossy "In Case of Emergency" brochures and innovative new Web sites, the University has largely failed to address the personnel concerns that hold those tools back. Until Duke appoints a credible, well-respected security staff to run our safety and emergency services operations, Web sites and text messages will be of limited value.
Most of all, though, until we embrace the preventive measures needed to forestall tragedies like the ones at NIU and Virginia Tech, even the glitziest new initiatives will fail.
Kristin Butler is a Trinity senior. Her column runs every Tuesday.
Get The Chronicle straight to your inbox
Signup for our weekly newsletter. Cancel at any time.