- emergent phenomena
- Posts
- Get in—we’re going to hell
Get in—we’re going to hell
The road through hell is paved with good material
Did someone forward you this? Click here to subscribe.
So far, one of my favorite parts of writing this newsletter has been people reaching out with quotes, thoughts, and book recommendations. Please keep them coming!
Midway through any research project, we may find ourselves in a dark wood. This is katabasis, a descent into the underworld during which we, the hero, are tested and return with new knowledge.
Many heroes have traveled to the land of the dead and lived to tell the tale. But as a communicator, you have to journey through hell. You have to survive. And then you have to convince somebody to go down into the dark after you.
What is katabasis?
Katabasis is a common motif in Greek and Roman literature. (Katabasis is Greek for descent.) In the underworld, Odysseus gains the knowledge he needs to get home from the Trojan War, and Aeneas learns that his descendants will found Rome.
Descent narratives predate classical mythology and appear in theologies all over the world, such as Buddhism and Hinduism. In Sumerian mythology, the hero Gilgamesh travels to the underworld in an attempt to revive his friend Enkidu.
The archetype appears in countless modern works, including Toni Morrison’s novel Beloved, Seamus Heaney’s poem “Station Island,” and movies such as Apocalypse Now and Barbarian.
Down in the dark, a hero often encounters a deity or spectre who leads them to a revelation. The descent is then followed by an anabasis–a resurfacing.

A scene from Virgil's Aeneid. Welcome Images/Wikimedia Commons
Research as katabasis
But wait, I hear you saying. I thought we were trying not to go to hell. I thought hell was a place to be avoided at all costs.
“In classical katabasis, the descent to Dis or Hades is about coming to know the self, regaining something or someone lost, or acquiring superhuman powers or knowledge,” Rachel Falconer writes in Hell in Contemporary Literature.
Hell isn’t all bad, then. We might encounter guidance, purpose, clarity, or wisdom while we’re down there.
Through this lens, many experiences of discovery appear katabatic:
A years-long research project engineering enzymes is a katabasis.
Reading a paper about an enzyme-engineering project is a mini katabasis.
Writing a feature story about scientists drilling deep into the earth? That’s a double katabasis.
Condensing 20 years worth of research on the exposome into a 10-minute talk? Hmm, that’s really more of a dark night of the soul, wherein the hero is forced to confron—Nope! That’s a katabasis.
But even if hell isn’t torture, there may be snares that try to trap you and keep you stuck down there, laboring alone. Sometimes your curiosity can be a light in the dark, and sometimes it can lead you down rabbit holes that detain you longer than necessary.
Such a journey can test our sense of self by making us confront our own ignorance and doubt our abilities. We can even lose sight of why we traveled down there in the first place. Those challenges are the point—they’re what change us and allow us to emerge wiser.
Upon our return, our job is to recreate a miniature version of this journey for the audience—one that’s easier than ours was so that more people can embark on it. If we traveled to the ninth circle of hell, perhaps they only travel to the third. Where once stood 97 browser tabs, 1.
In turn, we benefit from all the journeys others have taken before us. This is how we disseminate knowledge: by making it more accessible to those who come after us, and their journey less arduous.
How to apply it
Your route will be circuitous, but the one you create for your audience should be more direct. If you do take your audience on detours, it’s because there is something fantastical worth seeing.
Keep an eye out for tension, conflict, and anywhere things don’t align. These can help drive your narrative. And be on the look-out for the unexpected: if something surprises you, it’s also likely to surprise your audience. If you encounter a plot twist down there in the dark, you can let it unfold for your audience the same way it did for you.
(This goes without saying, but be sure that you can retrace your steps. With government sites coming down every day, downloading websites and documents as pdfs and saving them locally is a sound strategy.)
You may be tempted to create a map for yourself before you journey into hell. Just don’t get too attached to it. ”Don't ever become the prisoner of a preconceived plan,” writes William Zinsser in On Writing Well. Understand from the outset the questions your audience will have, and let those guide both your journey and the map you create for them.
Ultimately, your own journey through the underworld ends up being a powerful blueprint for how to communicate.
Last weekend, I read Seamus Heaney’s “Station Island” in my yard while a thunderstorm rolled in. Highly recommend. (This is where I brag about meeting Heaney at the StAnza Poetry Festival in 2010.)
Til We Have Faces by C.S. Lewis, one of my all-time favorite books, features a twist on Psyche’s descent into the underworld.
For more on katabasis in popular imagination, check out Hell in Contemporary Literature: Western Descent Narratives since 1945 by Rachel Falconer.
When your basement renovation turns into a katabasis…
Hi! I’m Alex. I write about scientific research for nonprofits, universities, and brands. I also help experts communicate their own research. Learn more about my work or connect with me on LinkedIn.
Enjoying emergent phenomena?