There’s no shortage of things to worry about — we in the news business make sure of that. If it’s not a shark attack in Hawaii, it’s a hurricane in the Atlantic, a volcano in Iceland or — and this one is really scary — a cruise ship adrift in the Caribbean with no power and the toilets overflowing.
Bad things happen, but sometimes they loom closer or larger in our minds than they really are. Meanwhile, we ignore more immediate risks.
You don’t have to settle for just reading about catastrophes, you can see the videos. Time was when you had to concoct things in your head to worry about. Now, thanks to YouTube and other digital services, you can find ample material to feed any phobia.
News is about what is new, what is different, what has changed. It is often about aberrations from the norm, and so the aberration starts to seem like the norm.
Don’t shoot the messengers — few of you would read a story about how 4,622,572 British Columbians did not kill anyone today, but most would read about one who did. It’s not just the nature of news, it’s human nature.
That is not to make light of the tragedies, troubles and dangers. They are real; we should be concerned, but we shouldn’t lose perspective. We should separate possible dangers from probable dangers; we should differentiate between remote risks and real risks.
Airport security is deemed to be necessary to prevent hijackings and acts of terrorism. Those are remote dangers, but we accept the inconvenience and loss of time involved in going through security as a necessary part of travel. Contracting a contagious disease while cooped up in a flying metal tube with a hundred or so breathing human beings is a far greater risk, but we do little to prevent that.
While working in the U.S. a few years ago, I went to a shooting range where a gun club was giving lessons on pistol use to senior citizens. Great care was taken to teach the safe handling and storage of firearms. But the emphasis was on shooting human-shaped targets.
An elderly woman learning to use her handgun told me she would feel safer knowing she had a weapon and the ability to defend herself. Had she or anyone she knew been in a situation where such defence was needed?
“No, but you just never know when that might happen,” she said.
She might have felt safer, but I didn’t. All those nervous senior citizens with loaded pistols? Now that’s scary.
In the aftermath of the December 2012 school shooting in Connecticut, some companies are marketing bulletproof backpacks for children. The idea is that a kid can use the backpack as a shield if someone comes into the school firing a gun.
How to make your six-year-old feel safe at school: “If someone starts shooting, just pick up your backpack and hold it like this.” How reassuring.
Who wasn’t touched with alarm and grief when those 20 children and six adults were killed? But despite all that publicity, the chances of a child being shot at school are still remote. Far greater statistically is the risk of being hit by a car while running across the street to the school, or being involved in a collision because a parent was distracted while driving. But we don’t get that same chill from seeing a person texting behind the steering wheel.
Some people fear creatures such as snakes and spiders, but a more real danger is posed by the creatures who live in large numbers on most kitchen counters. Injuries from arachnids or reptiles are rare in B.C., but food poisoning happens frequently.
But we don’t jump back from the sink and scream because we are in the proximity of a colony of dangerous bacteria. It’s standard procedure to kill an invading spider; less ardent are efforts to disinfect disease-ridden surfaces in homes and offices.
Those disasters we see on the TV screen are real, but often remote. More immediate is the danger that comes from spending too much time on the couch watching that screen.
