In the Dark: What We Learn When Systems Fail

Imagine for a moment that all the systems you rely on vanished without warning: electricity, internet, and phone service are suddenly gone. Payments cannot go through, and even cash seems useless in a way you never expected. What would you do? What would happen to those around you—your team, your business, your neighborhood?

This is precisely the situation Spain faced during a sudden and widespread blackout. Almost immediately, the ordinary rhythms of life broke down. People raced to supermarkets and gas stations, only to find that familiar solutions no longer worked. Cash, often the assumed backup for electronic transactions, was suddenly unreliable. In many locations, shops could not make change because their registers and card systems were down. If you needed a loaf of bread and only had a large bill, you had to choose between overpaying and going without. In some towns, small denominations of cash were still valuable, and community resourcefulness kicked in. In others, cash was nearly worthless, and the only way to obtain essentials was through luck or negotiation.

Information was another casualty. Without a working phone or internet connection, and with no warning from officials, people had to improvise ways of getting news. Some sat in their cars to listen to the radio, which became the sole lifeline for updates. Those without radios depended on word of mouth—rumors and speculation spread rapidly, often outpacing facts. Some believed it was a cyberattack, others blamed foreign governments, but with no confirmation, uncertainty became its own source of anxiety.

The event revealed a hidden vulnerability in modern life: the more connected and centralized systems become, the more likely it is that a local disturbance can escalate into a nationwide crisis. Spain’s power grid, highly integrated across the region, failed as a whole rather than in isolated pockets. Similar risks exist within organizations that rely on single providers or centralized operations; one unexpected failure can ripple through every layer instantly.

Technical fixes—like backups and alternative suppliers—are necessary, but resilience also depends on human factors. In the blackout, the people who fared best were those who could improvise and collaborate. Some neighborhoods organized to check on the vulnerable or share supplies. Others waited passively for official communication that took far too long to arrive. Those who had practiced informal routines—like knowing where to meet if phones are down or having agreed-upon signals for help—adapted more quickly.

If you are a leader, whether in business or your community, this event offers practical lessons. Do not rely on a single kind of backup; what works in theory may fail in practice. Encourage your teams to create their own small-scale routines for emergencies. Hold realistic drills that go beyond paperwork, allowing people to practice problem-solving under pressure. Pay attention to those in your organization who naturally build trust and take initiative, because in a crisis, these individuals help others adapt. Most importantly, communicate as clearly and frequently as possible—people handle uncertainty better when leadership is visible, even if all the answers are not.

The Spanish blackout shows how quickly daily stability can unravel. Preparing for disruption is about more than technology or supplies; it is about building strong social ties, fostering creative responses, and practicing how to act together when usual systems fail. In the end, resilience means being ready to invent solutions together, whatever darkness may come.