Jerry Garrett reports for the New York Times about the 15-car Indycar crash that killed Dan Wheldon. The report is troubling, especially in that conditions for the tragedy were obvious. There were too many drivers; they were averaging laps of 220 mph; the speedway's banks were high and dropped into dangerous flats. The crash was dramatic, and terrible.
Other sports--football, baseball, boxing, etc--also entail serious risks, yet we are drawn to participate in and watch them being played. When children develop, they engage in play that is inherently dangerous--sometimes to the chagrin of their anxious parents. Dangerous play is true of human and non-human animals, and there is evidence that without this play, full development is stifled. A certain measure of risk taking is required as a part of healthy development.
We live in a time of heightened safety consciousness. Our cars have 12-15 air bags and computers that recognize danger. They tell us if our tires are running low. In order to enter an airport, we submit to scans, screens, and challenge questions--all to ensure safety. In national politics, safety and security predominate.
Yet in spite of these safety measures, we take risks. We drive faster than we should (at least at times), talk on cell phones in the car or text while driving, consume too much food and drink, smoke, exercise too little...
The Wheldon tragedy is saddest because its risks were known, and probably preventable. The full story--the Indy and Nascar struggle, the role of money, the clearly known risks--is still being investigated. But the tragedy illustrates a deeper conundrum, in which living requires taking risks--and pushing limits. Absolute safety would be stifling and soul destroying, and thus we celebrate those who push limits with skill and expertise. The best of them accomplish in maximums what the rest of us pursue in smaller ways as we live our lives
