The Fearful Angels of Our Nature
Michael Shermer
A review of The Culture of Fear: Why Americans Are Afraid of the Wrong
Things, by Barry Glassner. New York: Basic Books. 276 pp., $25.00
Long before he penned the book that justified laissez faire capitalism, Adam
Smith became the first evolutionary psychologist when he observed that
“Nature, when she formed man for society, endowed him with an original desire
to please, and an original aversion to offend his brethren. She taught him to
feel pleasure in their favorable, and pain in their unfavorable regard.” Yet,
by the time he published The Wealth of Nations in 1776, Smith realized that
human motives are not so pure: “It is not from the benevolence of the
butcher, the brewer or the baker that we expect our dinner, but from their
regard of their own interest. We address ourselves not to their humanity, but
to their self-love, and never talk to them of our necessities, but of their
advantage.”
Is our regard for others or for ourselves? Are we empathetic or egotistic? We
are both, and in this observation lies a clue to why Americans are afraid of
the wrong things. We see what happens to others, empathize with their pain,
then turn to our own self interest in dreaded anticipation of the same
disaster befalling us. The week I wrote this review the television news
program 20/20 ran a story about kids who dropped heavy stones off freeway
overpasses that smashed through car windows, killing or maiming the
passengers within. The producers appealed to the fearful angels of our nature
by introducing viewers to the hapless victims with mangled faces and
shattered lives, evoking our empathy; they then engaged our self-love with
the rhetorical question: “could this happen to you?”
According to USC sociologist Barry Glassner, in this gutsy exposé of one of
the most widespread delusions of our time—misplaced fear—the proper answer is
“it is so unlikely that your time and energy would be better spent worrying
about real dangers.” But such qualifications do not make for good television
because they assuage our fears, and fear is one of the most important
components in the reality-TV ratings’ formula. Glassner demonstrates with
precision and clarity in this well-written compendium of what troubles
Americans today, that we have built what he appropriately calls a “culture of
fear.” Who created this culture? Ultimately we did, by buying into the rumors
and hearsay that pass for factual data, but those factoids and reports had to
come from somewhere. Follow the money, says Glassner. Who traffics in fear
mongering? Politicians do when they win elections by grossly exaggerating
(and sometimes outright lying about) crime and drug use percentages under
their opponent’s watch. Advocacy groups profit (literally), since nothing
drives fund raisers faster than expectation of doom (to be thwarted just in
time if the donor’s contribution is beefy enough)—think of conservatives
decrying the demise of the family or liberals proclaiming the destruction of
the environment.
Religions play on our fears by hyping up the doom and gloom of this world to
make the next world seem all the more appealing. On May 17, 1999, an
evangelical Christian friend of mine insisted that we are in the “end times”
because the Bible prophesied an increase in immorality and malfeasance. Since
everyone knows crime is an epidemic problem in America that worsens by the
year (“just look at the recent Colorado shooting,” he enthused), the end is
nigh. I remember the date because it was the same day the FBI released its
findings that we are in the midst of the longest decline in crime rates since
the bureau began collecting data in 1930.
In other words, says Glassner, we are confronted with the paradox of being
more fearful than we have ever been at the same time that things have never
been so good. “Give us a happy ending and we write a new disaster story.” And
as storytelling animals we spin some dramatic tales of calamity and
misfortune. “In the late 1990s the number of drug users had decreased by half
compared to a decade earlier” yet the “majority of adults rank drug abuse as
the greatest danger to America’s youth.” Ditto the economy, where “the
unemployment rate was below 5 percent for the first time in a quarter
century. Yet pundits warned of imminent economic disaster.” In this century
alone modern medicine and social hygiene practices and technologies have
nearly doubled our life span and improved our health immeasurably, yet
Glassner points out that if you tally up the reported disease statistics, out
of 266 million Americans, 543 million of us are seriously ill!
How can this be? As Benjamin Disraeli quipped: lies, damn lies, and
statistics. We may be good storytellers, but we are lousy statisticians.
Glassner shows, for example, that women in their 40s believe they have a 1 in
10 chance of dying from breast cancer, but their real lifetime odds are more
like 1 in 250. He notes that some “feminists helped popularize the frightful
but erroneous statistic that two of three teen mothers had been seduced and
abandoned by adult men” when in reality it “is more like one in ten, but some
feminists continued to cultivate the scare well after the bogus stat had been
definitively debunked.” The bigger problem here is the law of large numbers,
or as my friend Penn Jillette likes to say: “million to one odds happen eight
times a day in New York.” In America, million to one odds happen 266 times a
day, and of those the most sensational dozen make the evening news,
especially if captured on video.
Herein lies part of the problem. We are daily fed numbers we cannot
comprehend about threats to our security we cannot tolerate. But better safe
than sorry, right? Wrong, says Glassner. Pathological fear takes a dramatic
toll on our psyches and wallets: “We waste tens of billions of dollars and
person-hours every year on largely mythical hazards like road rage, on prison
cells occupied by people who pose little or no danger to others, on programs
designed to protect young people from dangers that few of them ever face, on
compensation for victims of metaphorical illnesses, and on technology to make
airline travel—which is already safer than other means of
transportation—safer still.”
Of all the institutions feeding our fears, the media takes center stage for
sensationalism (the adage is “if it bleeds, it leads”). Glassner cites an
Emory University study showing that the leading cause of death in men, heart
disease, received the same amount of coverage as the 11th-ranked
vector—homicide. Not surprising, drug use, the lowest ranking risk factor
associated with serious illness and death, received as much attention as the
second-ranked risk factor, poor diet and lack of exercise. From 1990 to 1998,
America’s murder rate decreased by 20 percent while the number of murder
stories on network newscasts increased by an incredible 600 percent (and this
doesn’t count O.J. stories). “The short answer to why Americans harbor so
many misbegotten fears is that immense power and money await those who tap
into our moral insecurities and supply us with symbolic substitutes.”
The long answer is in the details so well documented and presented in this
important book, that has the courage to point out that Gulf War Syndrome is a
chimera, that television does not cause violence, that Satanic cults are
phantasmagorical, that most recovered memories of child abuse are nothing
more than false memories planted by bad therapists, that silicon breast
implants cause nothing more than metastatic litigation, and even that the
drug war is ineffective and that the drug emperor has no clothes. Well, he
doesn’t. He’s butt naked and it’s high time someone said it.
So as the nation wrings its collective hands in despair over what to do about
the Columbine High murders and its media-driven clones, we would be
well-advised to remember the law of large numbers, our selective memory of
the most egregious events, and that most of our fears are illusory—the
vaporous product of a culture of fear of which we are both creators and
victims.