The Predictable Story Arc of Disaster

Every disaster has a story arc, and it has become predictable and clichéd. From 9-11 to Katrina, to our fires, we tell the story in stages.

First the drama: We show the pictures of the collapse of the building, the smoke and the fires of 9-11. We watch the waters rise and the winds roar in Katrina. We see the forests aflame, the houses burning and watch the eerie glow in the sky as the flames reach for the heavens above Malibu and San Diego.

Second comes compassion and human interest: We see the brave and resolute. We feel compassion for the victims, the refugees telling their stories with voices choked by both smoke and emotion. We feel proud that they will rebuild the towers, drain the city and come home and build new houses where their old ones burned.

Third comes blame: The blame shifts between the victims who should not build where there are floods and fires (the 9-11 victims get off on this one, though the survivors may not). Then the blame shifts to the authorities who should have known better, been better prepared, and come in far swifter. 9-11 should have been prevented by connecting the dots, not having the coordination center in the previously attacked towers, and the radios should have been able to talk to each other. Katrina blames both the victims for being there and the government for not being there. And now with our California fires, the games have begun. The National Guard and helicopters were in Iraq. The Feds are inefficient. San Diego has too few firefighters and won’t raise taxes to add more. And, of course, no one should live in Malibu and expect help since they know there will be fires.

This is a tragic but set in stone narrative. We would do well to take such story arcs with a great deal of salt—unless your medical care provider recommends otherwise.