To say news of Steve Irwin’s death shocked me would be dishonest. His exuberant antics pushed the bounds of what most people consider sane behavior. Yet beyond his hokey catchphrases and wild-eyed demeanor I saw a man who deeply cared about his work. Not because he believed his risky behavior would translate to big paychecks, but out of an earnest desire to educate people about nature and the moral obligations we have as stewards of the Earth. With this in mind, it is my firm belief he can not only be remembered as a great conservationist and entertainer, but as a symbol in defiance of a fanaticism gripping America today – that of “healthism.” Healthism began to rear its head during the carrot juice and cocaine-fueled era of the 1980s. This belief that individuals must remove as many risks from their lives as possible made the Stairmaster fashionable and secondhand smoke something other than a way for the timid to get their nicotine fix. The way doctors treated patients changed. Healthy no longer meant being disease free. Rather, it took on its now holistic definition that social and mental factors of an individual are interconnected with their overall well-being. It then stood to reason that it would be most optimal to take up preventive treating. Physical education meant instilling the value of a healthy body as a prerequisite to living a healthy life and staying disease free. Their stated goals seem altruistic enough: to better our lives through healthy living and empowering us with the knowledge to do so. But it often goes beyond prodding the lazy man on an exercise bike or staying the hand that feeds us our late night cravings. Perfectly disease-free individuals are told that something may be wrong with them. Their elation may not be as permanent as it should be. They may actually experience moments of sadness or join the ranks of mortals in becoming tired throughout the day. If that’s not enough, they warn us of the danger of hydrogenated oils in popcorn. High-fructose corn syrup in soda is undesirable not for its affect on the Louisiana sugar industry, but because it dares to be sweeter than sugar itself. We risk becoming alcoholics if we decide to have two cocktails within an hour’s time. Enjoying the basic things in life is now deviant, selfish, even morally reprehensible when it does not serve the greater good. Most troubling is that the disciples of Healthism are the politicians who slop the grease on the political wheels of this country and the upper-middle class professionals, including the doctors who advise them. Their narcissistic neurosis spills over into the public sphere. Anxiety becomes the stuff that public policy is made of. Look no further than the smoking bans passed by the Louisiana Legislature or the successful campaign to restrict drink specials by the Campus-Community Coalition for Change for recent examples. Peter Marsh, a noted British psychologist and director of the Social Issues Research Center, equated this trend as a new religion in an increasingly secular world. In his lecture “In Praise of Bad Habits” to the Institute for Cultural Research, risktaking is considered a sin. Those who do so must be made to feel morally inferior and have their behavior corrected. But this view is mistaken. Unlike the Abrahamic faiths that dominate the world today, it has no transcendent message or legacy for its followers. One’s health is seen as the ultimate realization of a human being’s ability. Enjoying a late night walk, breathing fresh air or savoring a piece of tasty fruit count as good behavior rather than taking pleasure in life as a human being. The devout are left to selfishly enjoy their prolonged existence. Fortunately, the Steve Irwins of the world made sure risks were taken for the betterment of humanity. Consider Paul Erdos, the eminent Hungarian-born mathematician who turned to stimulants to continue contributing to his field when others had long since burned out in their old age. Churning out theorems may not be as photogenic compared to Irwin’s wildlife exploits but his disregard for personal health and selfless desire to advance the field of mathematics exemplifies the same type of courage Irwin will be remembered for. Consider the soldier taking a drag from his cigarette while on watch, slowly “killing himself” as he stands guard over a war torn battlefield. They all represent the legacy of our ancestors – risktakers who worked to ensure we inherited this little thing we call modern civilization.
—–Contact Joseph Ruchalski at [email protected]
Irwin showed why risktaking matters
September 7, 2006

Joseph Rachalski, Columnist