
Disasters don’t usually come out of nowhere. Here in Toronto, we’re seeing it more often. Frequent floods sweeping through neighborhoods and hazy skies thick with smoke are all signs of a changing climate. Around the world, countless communities are facing resilience challenges due to infrastructure needs which have long been ignored. And in too many cases, it’s vulnerable people who were left out of planning, whose systems fail first, and who have the fewest resources, that bear the heaviest burden.
As an engineer, I often think about resilience in terms of systems—water networks that withstand drought and floods, energy grids that keep clinics running during storms. But resilience is not just a technical problem to be solved. If we don’t think beyond the technical and to the people being served, the technical solutions are bound to have limited impact. At the Centre for Global Engineering (CGEN) and my research group, the Water and Energy Research Lab (WERL), we explore how technology can serve people more equitably. We design solar-powered water purification and desalination systems, sustainable irrigation technologies, and low-energy wastewater treatment solutions for communities where centralized infrastructure doesn’t reach—or doesn’t last.
Technical innovation alone isn’t enough. Our collaborations in South-East Asia, Mexico and the Caribbean have reinforced a critical truth: the success of an innovation depends as much on community trust, training, and ownership as it does on efficiency. When residents shape the technologies meant for them—choosing what’s maintainable, affordable, and culturally appropriate—those solutions endure. When they don’t, systems fail long before the next disaster strikes.
This year, through ongoing partnerships with colleagues from the University of the West Indies (UWI) and the National Autonomous University of Mexico (UNAM), I’ve been reminded how diverse resilience looks across regions—and yet how universal the challenges are. In Canada, remote Indigenous and northern communities face recurring evacuation cycles due to wildfires and floods. In Mexico, earthquakes and hydrological risks intersect with rapid urbanization and inequality. Across the Caribbean, stronger hurricanes and rising seas threaten livelihoods, infrastructure, and access to safe water. In every case, under-represented and marginalized populations are those most at risk. They are also the source of some of the most creative, grounded solutions—whether it’s Indigenous fire stewardship in northern Canada, community-led hazard mapping in Chiapas, or women-led emergency response networks in Jamaica. Building resilience means elevating these voices, not speaking for them. It means designing technology and policy with empathy, humility, and the awareness that experience takes many forms.
True disaster risk reduction depends on connection—across borders, disciplines, and lived experience. That’s why CGEN’s tri-regional collaboration with UNAM and UWI continues to grow. This past year we hosted a series of workshops at each partner to understand the context and build collaboration. We are currently building on this through collaborative research projects and opportunities for student exchange. These partnerships are focused on SDG 2 (Zero Hunger), SDG 6 (Clean Water and Sanitation), SDG 11 (Sustainable Cities and Communities), SDG 13 (Climate Action), and SDG 17 (Partnerships for the Goals).
As I reflect on this work on the International Day for Disaster Risk Reduction, we’re reminded that the work of engineering resilience begins not with technology, but with listening. And that the most powerful tools we have are not only solar panels or sensors, but partnerships built on trust, respect, and shared purpose. As disasters grow more complex, our ability to listen to communities, partners, and one another will define how resilient our shared future can be.