In this column David Brooks deflates some inflated views.

The naturalists hold up nature as the spiritual tonic to our vulgar modern world. They urge us to break down the barriers that alienate us from nature. Live simply and imbibe nature's wisdom. "Probably if our lives were more conformed to nature, we should not need to defend ourselves against her heats and colds, but find her our constant nurse and friend, as do plants and quadrupeds," Thoreau wrote.

Nature doesn't seem much like a nurse or friend this week, and when Thoreau goes on to celebrate the savage wildness of nature, he sounds, this week, like a boy who has seen a war movie and thinks he has experienced the glory of combat.

In short, this week images of something dark and unmerciful were thrust onto a culture that is by temperament upbeat and romantic.

In the newspaper essays and television commentaries reflecting upon it all, there would often be some awkward passage as the author tried to conclude with some easy uplift - a little bromide about how wonderfully we all rallied together, and how we are all connected by our common humanity in times of crisis.

The world's generosity has indeed been amazing, but sometimes we use our compassion as a self-enveloping fog to obscure our view of the abyss. Somehow it's wrong to turn this event into a good-news story so we can all feel warm this holiday season. It's wrong to turn it into a story about us, who gave, rather than about them, whose lives were ruined. It's certainly wrong to turn this into yet another petty political spat, as many tried, disgustingly, to do.

This is a moment to feel deeply bad, for the dead and for those of us who have no explanation.

Thoreau is, of course, just a journalist who spent a short time camping by a local pond with easy access to the comforts and safety of town and had some soft thoughts that have entertained millions. He's not a serious thinker who looks at the whole picture and makes insightful comments. Brooks is right about his childish romanticism devoid of actual experience and so knowledge.

But there is some small value to his work as part of a larger investigation that does include more knowledgeable and serious thinkers. He can inspire a young scholar to dig deeper by helping make some of the more accessible aspects of nature interesting. He writes children's books and it seems fair to judge him by that standard. Childish, yes, but suitable for callow youths.

Brooks' point that there is a vocal cohort of politicized naifs with only a children's books education about nature is valid. It is a problem since so many live in denatured cities and have no idea at all what nature might be. Many of them are teachers and supposedly educated professionals. As a society we are crushingly ignorant and unaware that this is so. This is unlikely to change since urban life becomes ever more disconnected from natural systems. We now require all youths to have earbuds implanted so that they never hear a sound that has not been digitized;-)

But Brooks is wrong that this week's news is categorically different than other weeks. Natural disasters happen frequently. Storms of various sorts in many places are standard fare. Earthquakes and fires strike others. Droughts and plagues of locusts still happen after all. Epidemic diseases still kill by the million. Everyone knows that nature is capable of fickle and murderous fits. This was a very large and sudden fit of an unusual sort and so very newsworthy.

Brooks is also wrong that there is something wrong with finding the good news in this tragic event. That is exactly what we should do since it is a positive social lesson.

The stories about those localities that coped admirably are exceedingly instructive though too few. When a healthy society existed before the tsunami its shattered remnants pulled together and aided one another so that by the time external help arrived they were in a position to use it well and maintain their identity and continuity. They cared for their children even when their parents were gone since they were a community and had extended responsibility for one another.

Other communities that were troubled before the tsunami fared far worse. For example there are stories of caste divisions still being primary even in such a time of great need. A low caste person gets no aid from a high caste person. Another example are communities that had been atomized by strong central authority which undermined bonds among the members of society. They flounder, unable to function, unable to help one another since they all expect some authority to do the helping.

Brooks is also wrong that "It's wrong to turn it into a story about us, who gave, rather than about them, whose lives were ruined." It is also about us, our generosity and solidarity with other humans far away who have great suffering and need. The story is about all of this, both their ruin and our response.

Brooks is right that "It's certainly wrong to turn this into yet another petty political spat, as many tried, disgustingly, to do" but it is worth noting how universal this wrong can be. People in India for example tell the same stories about out of power politicians criticizing those who hold power about petty things, and those in power exaggerating their virtuous accomplishments. It is vile but not our problem uniquely.

This is a nature lesson too, the nature of humans. It is no more explainable in ultimate terms than tsunamis. It's just how things are, the nature of the beast and the rock the beast inhabits, a reality to be understood rather than a solvable problem. Human society can improve, be less petty and have better systems for coping with natural disaster, but people will not stop squabbling and monkey-wrenching one another anymore than the earth will stop quaking. Our plans need to take these realities into consideration.

Nature does provide models for useful organization that are worth noting: she never puts all her eggs in one basket. Her systems are not fail safe, they are fail soft. They bend but don't break... so far.