Gever Tulley, founder of the Tinkering School and author of the recently-released book “Fifty Dangerous Things (You Should Let Your Children Do)” discusses why he was led to coin a new word for the process of deciding what truly is and isn’t dangerous for kids:
I have had a lot of discussions with parents about which risky activities they will and won’t let their children participate in, and the differences are often striking. Just as there is no necessarily rational basis for choosing which animals are eaten, there appears to be no rational basis for deciding what activities are acceptable for children. […]
So, I propose the term “dangerism” to describe how a culture decides what is and isn’t dangerous. The sources of dangerism can be traced to both personal and social sources. Our individual perception of risk is based on a combination of personal experiences and family history. The cultural aspects of dangerism are probably best described by anthropologists, but the popular news media certainly plays a part in creating exaggerated portrayals of risk.
The point of it all is that ‘Risk’ is relative – and real risk, the kind that will actually, statistically stand a good chance of hurting you, is limited.
I’m reminded of Tim Gill’s work on risk aversion in society: as he finds, a little controlled, manageable risk is in fact a desirable thing in society. There’s nothing to be gained from completely avoiding risk, since not only can we never completely control or avoid risk, but we react far more dangerously to risky situations when we’ve not been exposed to milder forms of more “acceptable risk” and learned to handle it appropriately. For many cultures, this need for acceptable risk exposure is necessary for their very survival; for instance, in one of Gever’s examples, Inuit children begin to use knives at a very early age – a “risky” proposition by many modern mainstream American notions – but the same children also might later need to depend on using those knives knives skilfully if they come into actual dangerous circumstances, like confronting a wild animal in the woods alone.
So how can we really reconcile risk, and know what is acceptable risk? Gever concludes with this: “We must assess the risks, weigh the benefits, know the child, and know ourselves – then we just have to try to make the best decision we can.”
It’s a nice way of summarising the ‘Risk vs. Benefits’ weighing process, I think – even if it sounds deceptively simple. Here in the UK, playworkers – the adult staff present in our many Adventure Playgrounds – ask a similar question of themselves, as part of one of the guiding principles of their work:
Is the good this child or children will gain from this experience stronger than the likelihood of their coming to serious harm?
When it comes right down to it, if we hone our perspectives well enough, we can quite easily develop a pragmatic but respectful perspective on risk assessment. Consider this matrix from London Play, that is sometimes distributed to playworkers and providers. (Please bear in mind that, since Adventure Playgrounds in the UK are typically publicly funded services, playground management are legally required to do such risk assessment. The allowances within risk assessment would probably be different in more personal or family-based, non-public situations.) The matrix analyses activities seen as “potentially risky” for these criteria:
There are probably certainly other considerations you might take into account, such as modifications that can be made to negate some of the more dangerous aspects of an activity, while retaining most of that activity’s core value. All of this might be a bit too formal and impersonal an approach to risk-benefit analysis in everyday life, but I think there’s a lot we can still learn from there.
Further, if you’re interested in all of this, you might also appreciate Play Wales’s guide to risk and Play England’s brief on managing risk.
Jan 23, 2010 :: Tagged under: culture of fear, gever tulley, playwork, risk :: #