Trust in institutions
“How I navigate the systems around me and whether I can use them when I need to.”
Trust in institutions determines how much a person counts on the structures they live in functioning to some degree, and how they can work with them in practice. It is not about trusting the state in an ideological sense, but a very practical question: how do I use healthcare, security forces, state administration, local government and other systems that ensure the basic functioning of society.
It is not about whether institutions are perfect or whether a person agrees with them. It is about whether they see them as a real part of the environment they move in, and whether they know when and how to use them. Trust in institutions in the context of resilience does not mean blind reliance. It means a realistic relationship. A person knows the system can help, but also understands that it has limits and that part of the responsibility always stays with them.
This dimension matters because the individual cannot be separated from the environment they live in. Even a very capable and well-equipped person cannot manage without the broader system in some situations. Healthcare, security, crisis management or basic infrastructure are areas that individually cannot be fully replaced. Trust in institutions therefore does not say how much a person trusts the state, but how capable they are of including the system in their functioning as one of the tools that can help maintain stability in certain situations.
“How I navigate the systems around me and whether I can use them when I need to.”
This dimension shows up most in moments when a person finds themselves in a situation they cannot handle by their own efforts or with the help of those immediately around them. When trust is set realistically, the person knows who to turn to, how to proceed and what to expect. They can use available services, information and support without unnecessary delay. This reduces pressure on themselves and on those around them.
If trust is significantly weakened, a person often does not use the system at all, even when it could help. They try to solve situations alone even when they do not have the capacity or means. They defer contact with healthcare, authorities or the police because it is not worth it or they would rather not go there. This leads to unnecessary exhaustion and often to a worsening of the situation — a problem that could have been addressed in time deepens in the meantime.
Conversely, if trust is unrealistically high, a different problem arises. The person expects institutions to resolve more than they realistically can. They are not prepared for their limitations, delays or unavailability. When the system does not work ideally, they lose orientation and the ability to act independently. They rely on someone coming to sort things out, and when that does not happen they feel betrayed and paralysed.
In both cases resilience decreases. What is therefore key is a balance between relying on the system and one’s own ability to function. Trust in institutions also affects how a person works with information. In ordinary and crisis environments alike a large number of conflicting messages appear. A person needs to know which sources to pay attention to and how to work with information. Without this capacity, uncertainty and the risk of wrong decisions increases.
At the same time this dimension affects behaviour in crises. The ability to follow instructions, cooperate and coordinate with others is often crucial for managing a situation. Where trust is absent, chaos, delays and conflicts grow and further worsen the situation. Trust in institutions is therefore not an abstract attitude, but a practical ability to involve the system in one’s functioning so that it helps — while retaining one’s own ability to act where the system falls short.
Story from practice
“It was an autumn evening, that kind of dusk where it only drizzles slightly and the road is covered in wet leaves. I was driving home from work, an empty road between villages. At one moment two red tail lights disappeared around a bend ahead of me, a bang, and a second later there was silence you can hear even through the radio. After a few metres the car had stopped, lying in the ditch, airbags deployed, lights shining crookedly into a field.
I jumped out quickly, there was no one else there, but my legs felt like rubber and my hands were shaking. In the car sat an older man, disoriented but conscious. Bleeding from his forehead, the airbag had burned his hands, smoke around the engine. Everything I had ever read kicked in: do not move him, switch off the engine, secure the scene. I did everything as if in slow motion, to be safe. And then came the moment when I realised I had reached the end of what I could manage alone and needed to call for help quickly.
I called the emergency line. The operator asked clearly and briefly: where we were, how many people, whether anyone was trapped, whether the man was conscious, whether the car was on fire. She quickly told me what to do: put on hazard lights, put on a vest, walk ahead of the bend and wave cars to slow down. When I saw the first flashing lights of the fire engines, I felt relief that you simply cannot understand watching it on television at home.
The firefighters arrived first, shortly after them the ambulance and police. The firefighters secured the car and the accident scene, the paramedics immediately attended to the driver and the police redirected traffic and started asking what had happened. It was a very concrete division of roles: someone takes care of the person, someone takes care of the vehicle, someone takes care of the safety of others and makes sure one accident does not become a pile-up.
On the way home, once the road was clear again and I was sitting back in my own car, I realised the difference between this experience and the idea I had had before. Suddenly it was a clear, concrete network of people and procedures that I had to consciously activate in that moment. Without the operator, the firefighters, the ambulance and the police, I would never have managed that situation alone. As it was, I stood on the verge in a safe spot and hoped it would turn out all right.
From that moment on, trust in institutions for me no longer means believing in their perfection. It means knowing that there are situations where it is entirely appropriate not to play the hero but to quickly bring in a system that has the equipment, expertise, authority and experience. Sometimes what saves a human life is simply that a person reacts quickly and knows who to turn to for help.”