It lurks in the corner of our imagination, almost beyond our
ability to see it: the possibility that a tear in the fabric
of life could open up without warning, upending a house, a
skyscraper, or a civilization.
Today, nine out of
ten Americans live in places at significant risk of
earthquakes, hurricanes, tornadoes, terrorism, or other
disasters. Tomorrow, some of us will have to make
split-second choices to save ourselves and our families. How
will we react? What will it feel like? Will we be heroes or
victims? Will our upbringing, our gender, our
personality–anything we’ve ever learned, thought, or dreamed
of–ultimately matter?
Amanda Ripley, an
award-winning journalist for Time magazine who has
covered some of the most devastating disasters of our age,
set out to discover what lies beyond fear and speculation.
In this magnificent work of investigative journalism, Ripley
retraces the human response to some of history’s epic
disasters, from the explosion of the Mont Blanc munitions
ship in 1917–one of the biggest explosions before the
invention of the atomic bomb–to a plane crash in England in
1985 that mystified investigators for years, to the journeys
of the 15,000 people who found their way out of the World
Trade Center on September 11, 2001. Then, to understand the
science behind the stories, Ripley turns to leading brain
scientists, trauma psychologists, and other disaster
experts, formal and informal, from a Holocaust survivor who
studies heroism to a master gunfighter who learned to
overcome the effects of extreme fear.
Finally,
Ripley steps into the dark corners of her own imagination,
having her brain examined by military researchers and
experiencing through realistic simulations what it might be
like to survive a plane crash into the ocean or to escape a
raging fire.
Ripley comes back with precious
wisdom about the surprising humanity of crowds, the elegance
of the brain’s fear circuits, and the stunning inadequacy of
many of our evolutionary responses. Most unexpectedly, she
discovers the brain’s ability to do much, much better, with
just a little help.
The Unthinkable escorts us
into the bleakest regions of our nightmares, flicks on a
flashlight, and takes a steady look around. Then it leads us
home, smarter and stronger than we were before.