Finding the Good in a Catastrophe

In Patrick O’Brien’s Napoleonic era, historical fiction naval series, Captain Jack Aubrey begins most missions with a mixed crew; veteran seamen, land lubbers, convicts, foreign seamen pressed into service.  Strife is the norm.  In each case Captain Aubrey confides to the ship’s doctor and close friend, Stephen Marturin, how he longs for a life-threatening storm or battle to occur.  This inevitably happens, drawing the crew close together and in turn begin performing to Captain Aubrey’s famed standard of proficiency; no more than one minute twenty seconds between broadsides.  The external threat of a great storm or foe forces the mixed crew to forget their petty differences and instead focus on their common concern.

My favorite type of board games are of the cooperative variety rather than the “every man for himself.”  A great example of this is Forbidden Island, which requires all of the players to work together in order to escape from a sinking island.  Dungeons and Dragons could be another example of this style.  The players quickly realize, some faster than others, that they need one another if they are to survive the threat.  The players become imminently aware of their own vulnerability, cured only by relying on one another.  I have noticed a greater sense of bonding and camaraderie among the players walking away from these types of games.

Natural disasters in real-life are world shattering.  Nobody wants them.  Yet, they do have an amazing way of fostering solidarity among humans.  The trivial matters that divide us take a back seat when we are faced with a common, external threat.  It is in these moments, working together, that humans are able to perform impressive feats.  We become aware, if only briefly, what we can accomplish together as a species.  Therein lies the problem, however; we are forgetful.  While catastrophes fortunately are temporary, so also is the boost to our collective good will and ingenuity.  We forget and soon again focus on the trivial trial one foot before us.  It is in this context that I say, thank goodness for the next catastrophe, because I like the thought of firing three broadsides in under two and a half minutes.  Don’t you?