Tattoos have long been a part of human culture. Ötzi, the mummified “iceman” got 61 tattoos 5,300 years ago.* So, they’re nothing new, and had he not been killed, he probably would have suffered no debilitating effects from his skin art. But modern technology and the effort to remake who we are physically has given us a new version of an old tradition: Tattooing the eye. Unfortunately, the procedure is highly risky, as evidenced by Catt Gallinger’s experience. Her purple eye became at least temporarily, if not permanently, impaired.** The tattoo artist who injected the dye into her sclera, might have made a mistake in any one of several ways: Too much dye, too great of an injection depth, contaminated dye, too big a needle, too much of an unknown chemical component in the dye… Regardless of the cause of Catt’s problem, her plight begs two questions: How do we balance risk against gain? Why do we do something that might be risky?
Now, proponents of tattoos might say the risk is worth taking to achieve that “special look,” but there are levels of risk and levels of risk. Obviously, for Ötzi and untold numbers of tattooed people from ancient to modern times, tattoos don’t pose any more than a potential risk of regret. (“Why did I get an image of Mickey Mouse—or a former lover—tattooed on my forehead?”) Even if, as recently reported, tattoo ink can migrate inward to cause sepsis, sometimes, according to the FDA, years after the artist finished the skin art, the chance of any physical problem seems slight, given the number of people involved. But there is a risk, nevertheless. In 2015, the FDA issued a warning to tattoo artists about supposedly sterile and sealed bottles of ink because they contained Mycobacterium chelonae. (Amazing that Ötzi never encountered the problem of contamination! Probably his tattooist sterilized his instruments regularly) No doubt today’s reputable tattoo artists try to maintain sterile conditions, but no one tests all the sealed ink in the parlor, as evidenced by the need for an FDA recall on certain inks. And in the process of using any instrument in open-air, non-operating-room conditions with others moving about, any little critter can ride the current of ink to establish an invasive new home.
The question of whether or not one gets a tattoo is a personal one with many motivations, and apparently a decision involving only a slight risk. The question of value is also a personal one. And value sometimes means balancing risk against result. If I want to buy a new car, I have to weigh the cost to me vs. the gain. Is a new car worth part of my earnings? Will it put me in financial jeopardy?
Switch to car commercials: We all know the thrill of the ride… “Wait a minute. I thought this was going to be about tattoos.” I’ll get there, Pumpkin. Thoughts, like tattoos, can take time and lots of ink.
How many car commercials show fast cars moving fast—sometimes even on city streets—with a model, pleased smile upon his or her face, at the wheel? Acceleration. Remember what Einstein told us. Riding at a constant speed on a smooth highway offers no more a thrill than sitting on a couch. We don’t “feel” the movement at a constant speed. So, advertisers aware of our common knowledge about acceleration and its associated thrill show us fast cars accelerating for exhilaration with drivers risking as laws forbid them to risk. We buy under the influence of commercials that don’t associate the risk of dire consequences with high speeds. “It hugs the ground on a curvy road.”
Culture asks us to see risk favorably at times, but sometimes we need some convincing. Thus, the commercial world attempts to persuade us that certain risks, including traffic citation- and life-threatening speeding are worth taking. Maybe there’s a built in “I dare you” in the human psyche. Do we find some pleasure in incurring risk or suggesting it? Do we also become so inured against risk that we do not consider it much when we get an eye tattoo or buy a 400 HP car for roads posted with 35 mph—or at the most 75 mph—limits?
“I’m beginning to see that this isn’t about either getting a tattoo or a powerful car. It’s about our attitude toward risk. Right?”
Yes, it is. And it’s about how that attitude is affected by culture. In other words, regardless of our flight-freeze-fight response, we can be convinced that there’s a degree to risk. Even when risks like eye damage or injuries from driving overpowered cars pose a threat, we can be convinced that the consequences don’t apply to us personally.
Again, it’s a matter of weighing risk and gain. For Ötzi 5,300 years ago, there seemed to be little risk. Sixty-one tattoos didn’t kill him. There is also evidence that the ancient Egyptians tattooed their bodies at least as far back as 4,600 years ago.**** But probably most of the ancients would have balked at getting ink injected directly into the whites of their eyes. That kind of risk requires some convincing, some implanted suggestion that the risk is minimal and that the consequences are as inconsequential as buying a Porsche to drive on neighborhood streets.
As a result of our sense of diminished risk, we act in ways we might under rational examination consider to be potentially hazardous. We climb mountains. We take drugs for recreation. We drive fast when no one is looking. We even text and drive and drink and drive. And sometimes we get ink injected directly into the whites of our eyes.
We have the ability to see risks; that capability is probably built into our brains. We can learn, for example, not to touch hot stovetops. But we also have the ability to ignore risks; and that is probably built into our cultures. A risk an individual might see clearly, culture might see through a purple infected eye.
*http://blogs.discovermagazine.com/d-brief/2015/01/30/scientists-mapped-otzi-icemans-61-tattoos/#.WeNdbkyfngE Ötzi’s tattoos were not ink marks, but rather charcoal that he or his contemporaries might inserted in the belief that charcoal had a medical effect.
** https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/to-your-health/wp/2017/09/30/a-model-decided-to-tattoo-her-eyeball-shes-now-partially-blind-and-in-excruciating-pain/?utm_term=.4a3d0c4cd6d4
*** https://www.fda.gov/Food/NewsEvents/ConstituentUpdates/ucm457439.htm
Now, proponents of tattoos might say the risk is worth taking to achieve that “special look,” but there are levels of risk and levels of risk. Obviously, for Ötzi and untold numbers of tattooed people from ancient to modern times, tattoos don’t pose any more than a potential risk of regret. (“Why did I get an image of Mickey Mouse—or a former lover—tattooed on my forehead?”) Even if, as recently reported, tattoo ink can migrate inward to cause sepsis, sometimes, according to the FDA, years after the artist finished the skin art, the chance of any physical problem seems slight, given the number of people involved. But there is a risk, nevertheless. In 2015, the FDA issued a warning to tattoo artists about supposedly sterile and sealed bottles of ink because they contained Mycobacterium chelonae. (Amazing that Ötzi never encountered the problem of contamination! Probably his tattooist sterilized his instruments regularly) No doubt today’s reputable tattoo artists try to maintain sterile conditions, but no one tests all the sealed ink in the parlor, as evidenced by the need for an FDA recall on certain inks. And in the process of using any instrument in open-air, non-operating-room conditions with others moving about, any little critter can ride the current of ink to establish an invasive new home.
The question of whether or not one gets a tattoo is a personal one with many motivations, and apparently a decision involving only a slight risk. The question of value is also a personal one. And value sometimes means balancing risk against result. If I want to buy a new car, I have to weigh the cost to me vs. the gain. Is a new car worth part of my earnings? Will it put me in financial jeopardy?
Switch to car commercials: We all know the thrill of the ride… “Wait a minute. I thought this was going to be about tattoos.” I’ll get there, Pumpkin. Thoughts, like tattoos, can take time and lots of ink.
How many car commercials show fast cars moving fast—sometimes even on city streets—with a model, pleased smile upon his or her face, at the wheel? Acceleration. Remember what Einstein told us. Riding at a constant speed on a smooth highway offers no more a thrill than sitting on a couch. We don’t “feel” the movement at a constant speed. So, advertisers aware of our common knowledge about acceleration and its associated thrill show us fast cars accelerating for exhilaration with drivers risking as laws forbid them to risk. We buy under the influence of commercials that don’t associate the risk of dire consequences with high speeds. “It hugs the ground on a curvy road.”
Culture asks us to see risk favorably at times, but sometimes we need some convincing. Thus, the commercial world attempts to persuade us that certain risks, including traffic citation- and life-threatening speeding are worth taking. Maybe there’s a built in “I dare you” in the human psyche. Do we find some pleasure in incurring risk or suggesting it? Do we also become so inured against risk that we do not consider it much when we get an eye tattoo or buy a 400 HP car for roads posted with 35 mph—or at the most 75 mph—limits?
“I’m beginning to see that this isn’t about either getting a tattoo or a powerful car. It’s about our attitude toward risk. Right?”
Yes, it is. And it’s about how that attitude is affected by culture. In other words, regardless of our flight-freeze-fight response, we can be convinced that there’s a degree to risk. Even when risks like eye damage or injuries from driving overpowered cars pose a threat, we can be convinced that the consequences don’t apply to us personally.
Again, it’s a matter of weighing risk and gain. For Ötzi 5,300 years ago, there seemed to be little risk. Sixty-one tattoos didn’t kill him. There is also evidence that the ancient Egyptians tattooed their bodies at least as far back as 4,600 years ago.**** But probably most of the ancients would have balked at getting ink injected directly into the whites of their eyes. That kind of risk requires some convincing, some implanted suggestion that the risk is minimal and that the consequences are as inconsequential as buying a Porsche to drive on neighborhood streets.
As a result of our sense of diminished risk, we act in ways we might under rational examination consider to be potentially hazardous. We climb mountains. We take drugs for recreation. We drive fast when no one is looking. We even text and drive and drink and drive. And sometimes we get ink injected directly into the whites of our eyes.
We have the ability to see risks; that capability is probably built into our brains. We can learn, for example, not to touch hot stovetops. But we also have the ability to ignore risks; and that is probably built into our cultures. A risk an individual might see clearly, culture might see through a purple infected eye.
*http://blogs.discovermagazine.com/d-brief/2015/01/30/scientists-mapped-otzi-icemans-61-tattoos/#.WeNdbkyfngE Ötzi’s tattoos were not ink marks, but rather charcoal that he or his contemporaries might inserted in the belief that charcoal had a medical effect.
** https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/to-your-health/wp/2017/09/30/a-model-decided-to-tattoo-her-eyeball-shes-now-partially-blind-and-in-excruciating-pain/?utm_term=.4a3d0c4cd6d4
*** https://www.fda.gov/Food/NewsEvents/ConstituentUpdates/ucm457439.htm
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