Behavior in Crisis: Lessons from the Central Texas Floods

What the science of behavior can teach us about preparation, action, and resilience when the unthinkable happens.

This post reflects on the recent Central Texas flooding, including the tragedy at Camp Mystic, where lives were lost in an instant. It’s written with compassion and care for the families impacted, for the communities reeling, and for the professionals who try, every day, to prepare for the unthinkable. This is not a post about blame. It’s an effort to understand what happened through a behavioral lens, to explore how environments shape behavior in crisis, and what we can learn to inform future planning, teaching, and system design.

The Flood Came Faster Than the Plan

In Hunt, Texas, just days ago, the Guadalupe River rose more than 26 feet in 45 minutes. At Camp Mystic, where young girls were attending summer camp, the rushing water overwhelmed vehicles, buildings, and people before many had time to react. Multiple campers and counselors lost their lives. Many are still missing. Rescue crews have pulled over 100 bodies from the broader region affected by the floods. This happened devastatingly fast. In moments like this, there’s rarely time to think, to reference a protocol, or even to process what’s happening fully. And that’s exactly why the science of behavior has something to offer: not as a judgment of those caught in the crisis, but as a way to understand what behaviors emerge when the environment shifts that rapidly.

It’s such a tragic and unthinkable loss. Behaviorally, we examine moments like this, where plans collapse and people have only seconds to respond, and we don't see irrationality or panic. We’re seeing behavior shaped by the environment. And that environment just changed.

When Rules Fail, Consequences Take Over

In behavioral science, we distinguish rule-governed behavior and contingency-shaped behavior. Rule-governed behavior refers to actions we take because we’ve been told what to do, like following instructions that say, “If X happens, do Y.” It’s verbal and instructional. It relies on someone else’s account of consequences. Contingency-shaped behavior, on the other hand, is learned through direct experience, through repeated contact with consequences in the environment. It’s the difference between knowing what you should do in theory and knowing what works because you’ve lived it.

Moments of crisis nearly always expose the kind of learning history someone has. When the environment changes rapidly, when the ground shifts, the water rises, or the unexpected strikes, rules often fall away. In their place, the consequences take over. And floodwaters, quite literally, don’t wait. If someone has only been taught the rules, without ever rehearsing the behavior or practicing it in context, those rules are likely to collapse under pressure. What remains is the behavior the environment has shaped.

The Reinforcer Becomes Escape

When the environment becomes unsafe, the most powerful reinforcer is escape. In an instant, the function of behavior shifts fully and decisively. Actions that were just moments earlier about following rules, sticking to routines, or maintaining structure are suddenly repurposed for one thing only: survival.

At Camp Mystic, counselors and campers likely transitioned from instruction to instinct in a matter of seconds. The contingency changed. It was no longer about adhering to plans; it was about finding ground, getting to safety, and doing so quickly. In those moments, behavior is no longer shaped by policy. It’s shaped by the physical environment and the immediate consequences it imposes. The water rises, and the body responds. That’s not a failure of people; it’s just a reality of behavior.

Plans Don’t Save People. Behavior Does.

This is about understanding. When tragedy hits, our instinct is often to ask who failed or what went wrong. But we can really ask a different question: What were the contingencies? What behavior had been shaped, under what conditions, and how did the environment shift? This lens doesn’t excuse outcomes, but it helps us see how to design better systems going forward. This is an invitation to see human behavior clearly, so that in future crises, more of us are prepared to act in ways that protect, adapt, and endure.

In most situations, I write about slowing down to think more clearly, to respond more meaningfully. But in moments like this, the environment doesn’t allow for that. And that’s the point. If we want calm, adaptive responses under pressure, they must be shaped long before the crisis begins.