In “The Really Big One,” Kathryn Schulz analyzes the science involved with the Cascadia subduction zone and the geology behind it. By using familiar ideas to explain complex scientific ideas and contrastive sentence structure, Schulz makes an involved appeal to the audience to address the issue at hand. I hope to emulate the masterful storytelling Schulz used in this article in three concrete ways. That is, by using tone to convey the gravitas of the story, by using literary techniques, like amplification, to emphasize critical statements, and by using irony to drive humor, aid with engagement, and increase meaning.
Firstly, to introduce the audience to the gravity of the science involved with the article, Schulz sets the scene with a story about a frightening earthquake at a seismology conference in Japan. The tone delivered in this introduction serves to ground the yet-mentioned earthquake in Cascadia. Further, the context of the earthquake in Japan foreshadows the magnitude and severity of the topic using ethos. That is, the irony of a conference of experts on earthquakes experiencing a tremendous earthquake.
Chris Goldfinger, a paleoseismologist from Oregon, leads the narrative of this story. For the American reader, Goldfinger’s background establishes a connection to Oregon as opposed to one happening across the ocean in Japan. This is critically important when considering the severity of an earthquake in the Pacific Northwest.
Schulz tells the story by using diction to match Goldfinger’s description of the event. At first, the earthquake is described in a humorous and light-hearted manner, recounting the irony of the situation. As the story progresses, this humor quickly vanishes, and is instead replaced with disjointed and sharp sentences, reconciling the tone with the gravitas of a 9.0 earthquake. This can be seen in Schulz’s fourth paragraph, where the sentences abruptly change from long and drawn-out to, “The earth snapped and popped and rippled,” and, “The flagpole atop the building he and his colleagues had just vacated was whipping through an arc of forty degrees.”. The use of this tone goes on through the fifth paragraph, where the importance of this event is finally established to the topic at hand. Schulz introduces the science behind her article, and the specific locus of the Cascadia subduction zone. Schulz describes the research that led to the discovery of earthquakes in this zone, and the destructive protentional they can unleash.
Secondly, rather than outright list this destructive potential, Schulz instead opts to contextualize its nature through variable sentence structure – a technique known as amplification. The longer, more complex sentence structures illicit the colossal nature of the earthquake and tsunami that would wreak havoc on the Pacific northwest. The use of contrastive and variable sentence structure is identifiable in the short “The Pacific Northwest has no early-warning system,” contrastive to the prior sentence – a long, detailed explanation of how a warning system will prevent catastrophic damage.
For the audience, the direct and descriptive evaluation of potential catastrophe helps them to see the magnitude of the situation. As well, the connective lengths of multiple sentences engage the reader as Schulz jumps from one destruction to the next, varying paragraphs with additional robust scientific knowledge to further shed light on the earthquake. Schulz recounts the damage through curt, distinguished sentences, “That nonchalance will shatter instantly,” and “Water heaters will fall and smash interior gas lines.”
Thirdly, Schulz, throughout the article, emulates the questionable ignorance of the audience through specific critiques of scientific ignorance. The identified science behind the Cascadia subduction zone is new, as Schulz explains, with late geologic breakthroughs highlighting the lack of city development and preparation for natural disasters.
Later, Schulz alludes to current scientific ignorance with vague time frames, then highlighting the current infrastructure and its lack of protection. This contrasts the introductory story, where Japan had prepared itself for a 9.0 magnitude earthquake. Additional contrast is added by comparing innumerable devastation with hard, real numbers. This connection of advancement versus ignorance starkly appeals to Schulz’s central argument, that preparation is mandatory.
This ignorance is finalized with an emotional appeal. The telling of a principal unable to gain legislative support to build a safer elementary school outside of the tsunami flood zone. Despite detailing the low cost to the taxpayer and that the children will have no other place to go, the state’s ignorance rises above; all the people can do is know how to evacuate.
The irony of scientific nouveau established earlier in the story directly contrasts this final, emotional appeal, slighting lawmakers with an explicit emotional appeal. The irony of scientific intrigue, emphasized by the amplification of sentence structure and detailed narratives of catastrophe, highlights the disaster of tomorrow. The irony of an earthquake set in Japan at a conference of seismic scholars elicits the epiphany of earthquakes at the Cascadia subduction zone. For the reader, ironic ignorance conveys and persuades action – to prepare for the Big One.

“between a rock and a hard place” by Gwydion M. Williams and is licensed under CC BY 2.0.