At your own risk

I looked up to signs when I was small. They were tall and spoke definite words “Trespassers will be prosecuted” with a Skull and Crossbones in attendance. But one held my attention longer than any other: “Enter at own risk”.  Here was a sign which knew you could do bad things, but was not going to stop you doing them.

By then I had been saying “Lead me not into temptation” for a few years.  As far as I knew I had not been led into it yet, but what I did know was that this sign was trying to.   It was not as much a taste of forbidden fruit as a slight scent, but it worked on me. Why else would I be standing on tiptoes at the fence?   

“My Lord, the landowner had no right to tempt me in this way.” might not go far as a defence in court, but no judge would deny that the sign presents a choice.  Not only that but it also invites responsibility. And it’s not only choice which makes us human: it is the exercising of it. This sign acknowledged my capacity for wrongdoing and my freedom to do so.  What a magnanimous landowner! Could it be that he has plans for the consequences of such a choice and can’t wait for me to risk entering his lair?

The word “risk” comes from “to run into danger”.  Literal examples of this are Stormchasers, individuals (American usually) who chase tornadoes or twisters for an adrenaline experience.  Their aim: to come as close to the eye as possible. Of course they know the risk: it’s the very reason they are there. Living on the edge is big business nowadays:  many sorts of extreme adventures are on offer where “At own risk” is clearly signposted and your signature indemnifies the operators from prosecution if the bungee jump or the rollercoaster ride does not come off (or does come off!).   However, the risk taken here is a calculated one. Such businesses could not operate unless seemingly fail-safe: one accident and they’re done for. The risk you take is actually not the rope coming off or the track disintegrating: it is the heart attack, known as: “Bbbunn…!”   

To hold the operators responsible for such an unanticipated accident ignores a key factor of “at own risk”: your responsibility for not only the choice you make but also for exercising common sense.  Don’t go expecting the company to replace your glass eye which went AWOL on the rollercoaster (it happens) or the dentures which lie now at the bottom of the gorge. The fact that your mind did not flow out of your orifices shows that you have one and it should be used carefully before engaging in risk-taking.  John Bachar, one of the world’s great free climbers, made that choice. As he spidered his way up sheer cliffs, his focus was solely on where his hand or foot should move next. What lay between him and death was that choice.

While Bachar’s risks were clearly delineated, others are not.  Ironically, this may be more dangerous. Smoking marijuana was once a double risk: prosecution and the effects the drug may have on you, short or long-term.  Now that the first risk has been removed, the second becomes less potent as it moves into the territory of substances such as alcohol and nicotine which carry the “at own risk” warnings but, as they affect individuals differently, cannot be categorically condemned.  The risk, though, remains.

Computers or cellphones do not carry any such warnings.  Perhaps they should. It might remind the many, many thousands of people whose lives have been badly affected by them that, though the companies might have made them as user-friendly as possible, many users are not.  Social media is dangerous territory: “It’s a risk you took…” are words you might hear after something highly regrettable has gone viral. Better to download the Omar Khayyám App: “The Moving Finger writes; and having writ moves on: nor all thy piety and wit shall lure it back to cancel half a line…”?

Whether “Use at own risk” would prevent cellphone crises is doubtful, though.  People tend to believe they are in control of their destiny and others must not try to control it for them.  Though it could be argued that casinos should have signs at their doors warning people of the risks involved, would this not be ludicrous?  Gambling depends on risk: saying “It’s a risk you took” to someone who has lost everything belongs to a cartoon, not real life. What those words do point to, though, is that life does not have to be lived along the lines of chance.  Developing a skill consciously (which successful gamblers do) is seen as a better way of life. It coheres with the belief that life is not accidental and one has some control over one’s future on the basis of rational choices.

Though it’s unlikely that “At your own risk” is much in evidence in Las Vegas, chances of seeing it at a restaurant, dentists’ surgery or a hotel are even less.  Though livers-on-the-edge may flock to a restaurant with such a sign, if that venue is worth its bad bacon, it won’t stay in business as its clientèle shouldn’t be around that long.  However, for someone wanting to bring down the opposition in the catering business, popping a few such signs around may be useful.

Some businesses need these warnings.  Take the tool hire company where I head for the chainsaw I need and have always wanted to try my hand at.  But carving the chicken quite well with my electric appliance is no guarantee that I won’t be returning the chainsaw intact, but minus a few fingers. The man behind the counter knows this, which is why every appliance is signed out under such an agreement.  However, if you take your car to the carwash facility and see that sign there, go elsewhere. If they can damage your car with soap, water and a vacuum, don’t trust them.

“At own risk…” puts the cause of the potential problem where it belongs: your choice to use, enter, participate, partake or indulge.   The words are intended to give pause, a kind of count-to-ten, to consider what you are about to undertake, and whether you have what it requires.  There should be no problem if the choice is well made. 

We are at risk every day we live.  No situation is free from it: “The green man was flashing” is no guarantee that a red man will not be lying… . How was he to know that the driver was on his phone, drunk or had a heart attack? Living in a risk-free world is impossible and undesirable.  To avoid the risk of germs, Howard Hughes, once the richest man alive, almost sealed himself to death. Trying to avoid risk at all costs makes life hardly worth living.

Some signs do go out of use: Whites Only and  Do not Spit (found on the top deck of buses).  And how much longer will a train stay represented with steam billowing from its smokestack?  But were “…at own risk” to disappear from public eye, something would be lost from our consciousness: the acknowledgement of the individual’s ability to weigh up outcomes and consequences, and then exercise freedom of choice.

Since I first saw that sign, there have been things I have risked, both sign and unsignposted.  I have, though, come to understand that some of the most important choices in life have been made unaccompanied by such a warning.  Occasionally it sinks into me how we know a route, a method, a solution because someone was brave enough to swim into that underwater cave and find a way through where no one had been before.  Or jump off a mountain with a wingsuit, not knowing what the final result would be. Of course there was risk, but so great was the courage it must have taken to be the first to do it that risk is too weak a word to describe it.  After it has been done, the sign may go up. But pure courage goes beyond a sign.