Life-Blood of the War on Terror

Time Magazine's cover story this week is an investigation of the psychology of risk. Entitled, "Why We Worry About the Wrong Things," the article recognizes that both individual behavior and social policy are shaped by our perceptions of and attitude toward risk. Indeed, it doesn't take much mental effort to see how central the notion of risk is to the development and prosecution of the war on terror.

But the Time article is far more enlightening as a study in what it leaves undiscussed. Most obviously, as a "psychological" assessment of risk, it considers the question at the level of the individual. The reason we do a bad job of addressing risk is largely a problem of a "prehistoric brain." According to Time, "Sensible calcuation of real-world risks is a multidimensional math problem that sometimes seems entirely beyond us." The authors never consider that the notion of risk itself is influenced by social priorities and values. Instead, from the article's discussion one would think that human interaction with risk has hardly advanced beyond the level of instinct, largely governed by our "fight or flight" responses. Such biological assessments of social phenomena are pretty common. The Time article provides a good example of why this desire to biologize is so problematic.

If nothing else, the biological assessment of all manner of social problems leaves us with much less leverage to surmount them. The article's authors provide various suggestions of how we might tweak our risk assessment, but at base they believe, "it's something we'll never do exceptionally well." Since many of the problems lie in evolutionary, physiological structures, the theory goes, we have a limited capacity to change these. The authors exhibit no recognition that we could perhaps radically alter our attitude and approach to risk.

In this vein, the article is most telling. The problem it identifies is that we focus on some threats to our lives when there are other threats that are much greater. The article opens by saying, "It would be a lot easier to enjoy your life if there weren't so many things trying to kill you everyday." Among these things "trying to kill you" are early-morning heart attacks, fatal plunges down stairs, sausage getting lodged in your throat, and so on. The "optimistic" conclusion is that "officials who provide hard, honest numbers and a citizenry that takes the time to understand them would not only mean a smarter nation, but a safer one." There is a basic assumption here that we find problematic--that the fact one can die in a number of different ways, and indeed, will eventually die of something makes our lives impossibly risky. Therefore, rationally, we should spend our lives minimizing our exposure to these multiple life-risks.

But, why should we even think about risk in these terms? It is not inherent that we orient our social goals toward minimizing the chances of death, which of course is not to argue that society should be oriented around aimless risk-taking and thrill-seeking, or around a nihilistic lack of interest in preserving one's life. But society should perhaps not concern itself with risk. We could instead make decisions and shape policy around a vision of what we think life should be, and try our best to enable this good-life for all members of society. Today we are orienting society increasingly arount the avoidance of death. And this is exactly how Time's cover story understands and evaluates the question of risk. But avoidance-of-death policy does not provide for consideration of the next step, of how we should or would like to spend the time alive, nor how to maximize each individual's opportunities in life. Such a view is centered upon mere survivalism, never looking beyond preservation to ask what type of life we should live, and to craft social policy to enable that life.

This is, as we have said before, the ideology of the war on terror, it's life-blood. The bare-life vision enables the war on terror's bare-life policies. Central to overcoming the policies and consequences of the war on terror is resistance to this survivalist vision. It is indeed worth asking the question, "Why do we worry about the wrong things?" The answer, however, requires more than a biological assessment of individual brain function and demands that we re-think the notion of risk itself.