On Sunday, two-time Indy 500 winner Dan Wheldon died of blunt force trauma to the head after a 15-car pileup at the Las Vegas 300 IndyCar series final.
Wheldon’s death has brought a surge of questions and criticisms about safety and regulations in the racing world and there have been many calls for changes to the nature of the sport.
It was a decade ago when the racing community had its last most publicized death, when Dale Earnhardt crashed in the last lap of the Daytona 500.
Since then NASCAR, Formula One and IndyCar have seen a revolution in safety regulations, including mandatory head and neck cushioned restraints, carbon-fiber monocoque shells and tethered wheels on the cars, as well as SAFER barrier soft walls on the tracks, according to CNN.com.
Do we really want more changes to a sport that boasts of absurdly high speeds and defines itself by danger?
“As long as I’m CEO, danger will be an important element of this sport. When you sign up to be a racecar driver, you accept a responsibility for that danger,” IndyCar CEO Randy Bernard told the press in June. “And if you don’t want to be a racecar driver because of danger, go find another profession.”
Michael Traikos, sports writer for National Post, argued against this sentiment in light of Sunday’s tragedy. “(Bernard’s) words do not sound quite right today,” Traikos wrote. “Not with Dan Wheldon dead.”
He interprets Bernard’s policy of non-prioritizing safety simply as a marketing technique.
“Danger sells. Safety is not sexy,” he wrote
But it’s more than that.
Almost any type of human achievement in life requires sacrifice — and the most significant achievements in history often require “the ultimate sacrifice,” or at least the potential for it. From prize fighters to war heroes, their accomplishments wouldn’t be the same outside of their terrifying context.
For example, world-class rock climber Alex Honnold isn’t regarded as the best in the world because he plays it safe. Honnold has made a habit of free solo climbing, meaning that he scales giant walls, like Yosemite’s Half Dome, without the aid of ropes and harnesses, or any equipment for that matter.
The really impressive thing about Honnold’s climbing is not the physical aspect, but his mental strength. Just a single instant of broken concentration, or one false move, means his certain death. Yet he continues to do it, and after thousands of these free-solo climbs, he is still alive.
The mind power it takes to overcome fear is something that cannot be simulated without the presence of real danger.
Many have suggested that the conditions at the Las Vegas Speedway, the track where Wheldon died, were particularly perilous. Perhaps this is true — and there should be a concerted effort to minimize any unnecessary risk in sports, of course.
But competition and the opportunity for glory on the field, or the track, or the wall should never be sacrificed for the sake of a little more security. Real reward requires real risk.
So when the inevitable tragedy actually happens, and a beloved athlete dies, we shouldn’t be so quick to change the rules of the game. These tragic heroes willingly gave their lives for the sport they loved, and anything short of continuing on in the face of death is a disservice to their memory.
Reach the columnist at djoconn1@asu.edu Click here to subscribe to the daily State Press newsletter.
