Fear of death

The colloquial expression of "having a death wish" is often applied to people who expose themselves to great danger, and especially to those who enjoy extreme sports.

The most dangerous extreme sport is BASE jumping (above), where an individual leaps from a cliff, bridge or a similar structure, and free falls before opening a parachute. BASE jumping carries a five to sixteen times greater risk of death than skydiving from an aeroplane or helicopter [1], and an even more risky variant of BASE jumping is proximity flying using steerable wing suits. These suits allow fliers to pass very close to terrain before moving out into a region where there is sufficient altitude to allow safe release of a parachute and return to the ground. Take a look at this video clip and you'll see what I mean:

The fliers are Jeb Corliss (in the black suit) and Jhonathan Florez (in the light suit) and one can sense their exhilaration in flying quickly and so close to the ground. However, it can go wrong. Indeed, Jhonny Florez was killed recently in Switzerland and he was a highly experienced wing suit flier who had made many jumps of the same type as the one that resulted in his death from "impact with terrain". For close proximity fliers, then, death is a real possibility, but their attitude towards it is different to that of the average person.

In a study entitled Personality Characteristics of BASE Jumpers, Monasterio et al. [1] found that, while many personality traits showed a range that was similar to that of their peers, BASE jumpers tended to have very low HA (Harm Avoidance) scores:

The finding of low HA is not surprising or counterintuitive, as individuals with low scores in this dimension are described as carefree, relaxed, daring, courageous, composed, and optimistic even in situations that worry most people. These individuals are described as outgoing, bold, and confident. Their energy levels tend to be high, and they impress others as dynamic, lively and vigorous. The advantages of low HA are confidence in the face of danger and uncertainty leading to optimistic and energetic efforts with little or no distress..

..In our study there was a high prevalence of witnessed and experienced serious trauma, and near misses among BASE jumpers; despite this participants persisted in the sport and this suggests that they are likely to possess considerable psychological resilience to the effects of trauma.

Far from being reckless, BASE jumpers are very careful in their preparation, as they are aware of the danger of things going wrong, but this awareness is exceeded by the pleasure provided in making flights and jumps. Close proximity wing suit flying can be regarded as the pinnacle of the sport when it comes to exhilaration and, in discussing a range of extreme sports, Brymer and Schweitzer [2] point out that:

Fear was intimately related to decision making in terms of decisions to engage in or not engage in activities and potential consequences of such engagement. That is, the future which involved the potential destruction of the physical self emerged in the present..

..participants live in relationship to fear. Extreme sport participants perceive the experience of fear as an essential element to their survival. Fear is spoken about as if it is a healthy, productive experience..

..they are also able to objectify fear. Fear is thus not something to be avoided, but embraced as contributing to personal survival. Fear 'keeps you alive', revealing an intimate relationship between fear and the living self.

There are shades of mindfulness in these statements and the fear faced by BASE jumpers and wing suit fliers is not unlike the paralysing fear of those suffering from severe anxiety as a mental illness. However, the jumpers and fliers look at fear as something that is felt, challenged and benefitted from and the result is a feeling of release. Further in their article, Brymer and Schweitzer [2] write:

Participation in the face of the fear offers considerable benefits as participants note how the experience changes their life..

..a BASE jumper related how BASE jumping was the 'ultimate metaphor for jumping into life rather than standing on the edge quivering'. She described an acceptance of the inevitability of death and development of an intimate connection to nature as if just 'a leaf in the wind': ' you're totally vulnerable and totally part of the environment at the same time'..

.. Working through fear in an extreme situation empowers everyday life.. ..Fear emerges as part of the experience and meaning of extreme sports. Participants are very clear about the intense feelings during the preparation and pre-activity stage. It would seem that participants consider those who do not feel fear are a danger to themselves and others.

In another paper, Brymer and Schweitzer make a telling statement [3]:

A number of participants described a sense of freedom in terms of peace or being at one as participants were immersed in the natural environment.

Immersion in the natural environment is important to mental health, whether one is a BASE jumper, wing suit flier or, like me, a Natural Historian. Perhaps the only difference comes in the scale of intensity of feeling?

A sense of fear can be so overwhelming in beginners at free-fall parachuting that they have to make a first attempt by being strapped to an experienced parachutist who makes the decision of when to jump. This sense of impending danger also affects some bungee jumpers. Take a look at this clip (turn off the sound) and put yourself in the woman's position:

Bungee jumping and free fall parachuting are extreme sports with a good safety record, but fatalities do occur (the bridge in the above clip was the scene of a recent bungee jumping fatality). Yet the exhilaration of completing a jump often makes people want to make another attempt, just to see if the buzz is the same – and it usually is. In tackling the fear on a second, and subsequent, flight, the participant knows more about fear and that they can cope with it. Imagine that multiplied in BASE jumping and further magnified in wing suit close proximity flying and one sees something powerful at work [2]:

Participants in this study also report that facing fear in extreme sports and learning to participate despite the intensity of the fear facilitates the management of fears in other aspects of life. That is by facing our greatest 'true' fears whether they be death, uncertainty or something else and taking action despite those fears we transcend our own limitations and invite new possibilities into our lives.

Should we then encourage those with low HA scores in personality tests to take up the most dangerous sports because they provide a quite different perspective on life and one which is highly beneficial to the participant? Close proximity wing suit flying provides personal fulfilment and a great deal to the individual, but it is also selfish. If death results, the flier presumably knows little about it, but others have to cope with the trauma of recovery, and of bereavement, and this is the down side of the activity.

I don't know how many wing suit and proximity fliers believe in a supernatural force, but their sense of exhilaration in the face of death could be termed a religious experience, while providing tools to conquer day-to-day sources of anxiety and the fear of death. It all seems so much more real than the conventional religious approach to death, with the need to adhere to tenets throughout one's life, and the deep fear of judgement and retribution.

[1] Erik Monasterio, Roger Mulder, Christopher Frampton and Omer Mei-Dan (2012) Personality characteristics of BASE jumpers. Journal of Applied Sport Psychology 24: 391-400.

[2] Eric Brymer and Robert Schweitzer (2012) Extreme sports are good for your health: a phenomenological understanding of fear and anxiety in extreme sport. Journal of Health Psychology 18: 477-487.

[3] Eric Brymer and Robert Schweitzer (2013) The search for freedom in extreme sports: a phenomenological exploration. Psychology of Sport and Exercise 14: 865-873.

Parachutes and Wingsuits

If an insect falls from a plant it is rarely damaged as it has a low momentum and its body creates considerable friction drag as it falls. The force of the impact is reduced as a result and the insect then usually quickly scurries away.

Some larger animals are also adept at surviving falls and the offspring of tree-nesting ducks drop to the ground, being cushioned by leaf litter, by their down-covered bodies and by some flapping of their tiny wings. [1] Adult birds have little problem as they can fly down and then use sweeping movements of their wings to produce “reverse thrust” and thus decelerate gently, using the downward displacement of air to effect an easy landing.

Cats leap from trees, fences and walls, and their landing is cushioned by the shock-absorbing properties of the limbs, but surviving a fall from considerable height is much less likely, as maximum acceleration then results in high momentum. In arboreal mammals, swinging from the arms is a common feature and, together with the grip of the hands (and feet - and even tail in some monkeys) ensures that catastrophic falls are avoided. Yet some animals are able to leap from high in one tree to the base of a nearby tree while suffering no damage, thus moving more rapidly from one location to another than could be achieved over the ground. Two well-known examples of these “fliers” are tree frogs (in the genus Rhacophorus) and flying squirrels (genus Glaucomys).

Tree frogs spend their adult life in forest canopies, but, being amphibians, they must find water in which to breed. Some species use small rain pools in the axils of leaves or in tree holes, while the females of some Rhacophorus build nests of foam attached to tree branches overhanging ponds, the nest being created by rapid movements of the hind limbs (akin to whisking) in secretions made by the frog. Eggs are laid within this mass and these are fertilised by male frogs, hatching tadpoles then emerging into the foam and dropping into the water below to complete larval life. Froglets leave the pond and then climb adjacent trees, remaining in the canopy for the rest of their lives. Although they have pads on their toes to provide excellent adhesion to surfaces, adult frogs retain the webbed feet of the ancestral forms, even though they are not used for swimming. The webs are especially well-developed in some species and they act as parachutes to slow down the descent when frogs move from one tree to another, or from one branch to a lower one. 

Flying squirrels also use parachutes and these are formed from loose skin (termed a patagium), that runs between the fore and hind limbs, and between the fore limbs and the head. I was fortunate to be able to watch Glaucomys parachuting when visiting Dr Joe Merritt at the Powdermill Biological Station of the Carnegie Museum of Natural History in Pennsylvania. Dr Merritt had been studying these mammals for several years and laid out live traps so that we could then see the squirrels close up. Traps containing animals were collected and each trap was emptied into a cloth bag. In the photograph below you’ll see me (with Dr Merritt on the right and the late Prof. Björn Malmqvist on the left) at the moment when a captured squirrel bit me on the hand. I was told to take a firm grip of the skin over the neck of the animal, but it was still able to turn its head easily to defend itself from such unpleasantness. It was a lesson for me in just how much skin that flying squirrels possess. I let go immediately and the squirrel ran up a nearby tree, and then made a wonderful gliding flight before climbing rapidly, making another flight and then disappearing. The parachute of loose skin was very effective in slowing its descent, the squirrel covering tens of metres and with good directional control provided by the tail and by changing the profile of the patagium. It was most impressive and, in one way, I’m pleased that I was bitten.

I was reminded of this incident when reading a quote from Jeb Corliss in The Independent:

At the beginning, there were probably only very few squirrels that even contemplated flying from tree to tree. The other squirrels thought they were crazy. I imagine that hundreds of them died in the attempt. But then, in the end, one of them managed it. Now that, to me, is evolution. And now we are evolving, through technology and through skill. I liken what we’re doing in proximity flying to the first animals that left the water. We are evolving and growing. And becoming stronger. What else is the purpose of life? [2]

Not quite the way I would express the likely evolution of parachuting in flying squirrels, but Jeb Corliss is an expert wingsuit flyer, not a Biologist. Of course, it is impossible for humans to control their descent to the land without an external parachute and the earliest examples have been transformed into steerable ‘chutes that enable precise landings. As Jeb points out, wingsuit flying has close similarities to the flight of Glaucomys, with webbing between the arms, legs and body, analogous to the patagium of flying squirrels, providing steerable flight. Proximity flying capitalises on this level of control to allow fliers to pass very close to objects, or the ground, while making their descent (see the video clip at the end of this post).

Whereas Rhacophorus and Glaucomys have both evolved changed body forms to enable them to move from tree to tree for various reasons, human use of wingsuits is solely for pleasure. The excitement comes from exposure to danger, a sense of freedom, and the thrill of depending on a skill where a small mistake can have disastrous results. Some of us are drawn to such activities and proximity flying is addictive, even though the number of fatalities is large relative to the number of those who fly. Wingsuit fliers, and others involved in the most extreme sports, are only too well aware of the dangers and most are not afraid of death, recognising that it is possible that flights can go very wrong, even after meticulous preparation. They feel very alive as a result, and their approach to death contrasts markedly with the fear of life ending that seems to haunt others within the human population - and which is the basis of many religions. While animals such as Rhacophorus and Glaucomys cannot be aware of danger in the same way as humans, I wonder if  they get a thrill from flying?

[1] http://www.bbc.co.uk/learningzone/clips/mandarin-ducklings-jump-from-their-tree-top-nest/10473.html

[2] http://www.independent.co.uk/sport/general/a-wingsuit-diver-died-in-the-swiss-alps-earlier-this-week--so-why-do-they-take-such-risks-9709871.html