CHICKEN LITTLE OR PAUL REVERE?Dennis LegerJust before the Thanksgiving holiday in 1959, a federal official announced that the

nation’s supply of cranberries was contaminated with a cancer causing pesticide.

The alarmspread quickly as the public reacted to widespread reports on television, radio and in thenewspapers. Cranberry sales plummeted and millions of families went without the traditionaldish.The alarm was unjustified. A few weeks later, scientists explained that laboratory rats hadbeen given megadoses of Aminotriazole, amounts equivalent to a human eating 15,000 poundsof cranberries a day for many years. The public apologies came too late for an industry nearlyruined by the bureaucratic decision to save the public from an exaggerated hazard.When the hysteria faded, one thing had become crystal clear. Our ability to disseminateinformation exceeded our ability to assess its accuracy. And our capacity for alarm exceeded ourability to assess risk. We had taken our first steps into a vast unexplored region, into a wildernesswithout signposts or landmarks, into a chasm between what we perceive as the truth and what istrue.It was not the first time that the media delivered bad news. But we had learned of its newfound efficiency and its ability to spread fright and hysteria. In print and broadcast, the mediaastonish us each day with news of great wonder and even greater peril. Amid this chaos of information each of us must struggle with the difference between fact and theory, betweencertain knowledge and conjecture. Between the truth and what we are told to believe. Betweenfact and spin.The search for truth is never easy, of course, and there is a flood of opinion, with proof tosupport every reasonable option. We know that lines finely drawn to be disputed interminably.Yet here, the truth is critical. Amid a chaos of danger we have to struggle with the differencebetween genuine dangers and false alarms.We have to decide what to think and what to do. What foods are safe to eat? Are thechildren safe in public school? Can we afford a vacation or should we save for the comingrecession? What career will sustain me for years to come? Will we be able to save our home?Should I carry an umbrella or a picnic basket or a handgun?In a larger world, before the speed of electronic communications and jet transportation,we were sure of ourselves. Guidance came from our parents, the church, the school, thegovernment and the family doctor. The accomplishments of the past were highly valued.Communities, institutions and people grew respectably old while their traditions were beacons toguide young and old alike. In most families, values were little altered between generations. Wecould rely on the truth that came from previous generations because for most there was littlechange between our circumstances and those of our parents and grandparents.But the values of the past can lose their gleam under a constant flood of alarming newinformation. In the last half of the twentieth century, change occurred at the speed of light. Socialvalues, expectations, scientific discovery, even the nature of our relationships were transformedfrom day to day. Then reversed again.Now there are dangers for which history and tradition offer no defense. Even if somealarms are not new, they were never so widely broadcast. The morning newspaper and theevening news now bring reports of more horror and danger than mankind has ever had toacknowledge in a single day: From genocide to rape to violent murder. From war to mass

casualty disaster. From dangerous weapons to deadly chemicals. From environmental accident tosocial shipwreck. From natural disaster to intentional destruction.Our secure past is poor preparation for the dangers in the daily news. We cannot keep up.There are too many critical choices to be made involving our safety and happiness. Faced with aworld of dangerous change, what direction should we take? Should we hide in fear, stand upcourageously, or kneel and pray? Can we survive?We are challenged to navigate this Sahara without the guidance of a star, withoutreference points or perspective. We live in a desert of information and fabrication that is blownby the winds of public perception and drifted over by the sands of complexity.It may seem odd to search fo

r signposts in a children’s fable.

But then it would be a

mistake to think that the stories we know as children’s entertainment were meant only for

children. To adults and children, fairy tales often reveal aspects of human nature that havechanged little through the centuries.For example, our response to danger is like that of the barnyard animals illustrated in thetale of Chicken Little. A false perception of disaster, the falling acorn perceived as the sky,followed by hysteria passed on to her barnyard friends leads to their eventual demise in the denof Foxy Woxy.Although we have the same nature as those who lived in simpler times, ourcommunications industry has changed the world. Now the danger is greater than a wolf at thedoor or a fox at the gate. It is a toxic pesticide; a terrorist group run amok, an automobile thatbursts into flame after a minor accident, a dangerous disease spreading from continent tocontinent or a thousand other perils. The world is smaller and the acorns are falling morefrequently.There is one exceptional danger among all that are advertised in our time. It is calledunreasonable fear. It is the same emotion that sensitizes a child, home alone at night, to imagineevery sound a dangerous intruder.The future becomes truly dangerous when we abandon our good judgment and allowsuch an emotion to rule our lives. Whether the alarm is true or false, fear levies a costly tax onour individual lives and our society. It starts a slow death in which we spend unreasonably of ourwealth and energy to protect ourselves instead of living and enjoying our lives.Fear limits our freedom to choose. Afraid that public schools cannot be made better;those who can afford it send their children to costly private schools. Afraid that city streets aretoo dangerous at night, law-abiding citizens hide indoors while their neighborhoods becomeplaygrounds for gangs. Afraid that no food is safe to eat, we diet excessively. We becomeenslaved by danger and our fears, unable to risk and denied its rewards.If little harm could come from our reactions to danger, we could continue to ignore ournature. We could live in barnyard bliss, reacting to every acorn that falls and every alarm as if itwere the last. However, Foxy Woxy and his kind still await. We are fast becoming their victims.For society, one of two results is possible: first, we may stagger along, lost, withoutdirection or aspiration. Or, second, we may be controlled by forces that do not share our valuesor our best interest. When we are victims of fear we may become over regulated and overcontrolled, unable to gain power over our lives. Or we may hand opportunity to tyrants. The endis the cave, hiding in total security, or the grave.To save ourselves we must learn to ignore Chicken Little and make our own reasoneddecisions about danger. That is still possible, but it must be without the fears being marketed byspecial interests of every stripe: zealots, advocates, lobbyists, regulators, politicians and