Risk management is a technique which is used by environmental, health and safety (EHS) professionals to mitigate risk. For example, you might do a hazard and operability (HAZOP) study to determine the probable result of various mishaps at an ammonia refrigeration facility: a stuck pump might cause an explosion; an overheated boiler might catch fire. Based on the study, you could review the plant's operating procedures, and revise them to minimize the hazard.
My own case is another example. I work for the EHS Practice at Arthur D. Little, Inc., a large consulting firm in Cambridge, MA. My job is to write risk analysis software. This software is one of many tools in the arsenal of EHS people. One of the programs I write is used for a technique called "fault tree analysis", which determines the likelihood of an event. It does this by building a tree of all the possible ways the event could occur. It could have been used to forecast such things as the chance of a meltdown at Chernobyl, or an oil spill from the Exxon Valdez.
David Webb is Manager of EHS for Arthur D. Little's CIS (Commonwealth of Independent States) office in Moscow. He defines risk management as "the identification of risks and the application of technical and managerial measures to control them at a tolerable level". Risk management is a powerful tool, and many of us in the EHS profession use it daily. But how many of them think about applying it to their personal lives - or the lives of ordinary citizens?
We live in a dangerous world. (As the saying goes, it's a jungle out there.) Each of us routinely faces a myriad of risks, posed by everything from automobiles to alcohol to second-hand smoke. Although we accept these risks as the cost of life in a modern society, we attempt to mitigate them in various ways. We wear a seat belt on the way to the restaurant, where we request the nonsmoking section and skip the second glass of wine.
These choices are all noble and laudable, and undoubtedly contribute
to a longer, healthier life. But there is one choice that has a much greater
effect.
Let's say you had hired Arthur D. Little as risk manager of your lifestyle.
What would they find? If they did their usual thorough analysis, their
report would probably recommend that you pay close attention to the risk
factors which pose the greatest threat to your health and longevity.
Unfortunately, you probably will never read such a report. Arthur D.
Little is geared toward the large corporate client; its fees are much to
expensive for you and I to afford. So let's try and second-guess them.
Which of your lifestyle choices are truly high-risk, and which just seem
so on the surface? If we look at statistics, we find that we are much more
often stricken by the mundane than the dramatic. It's not the plane crashes
that do us in -- it's the long-term degenerative diseases like cancer and
atherosclerosis.
Let's go back to the restaurant for a moment. You've had your glass of wine, and you're enjoying some pleasant conversation with a charming dining companion. The waiter hands you the menu. What do you order?
Your food choices are a major lifestyle risk factor. You recognize this--it's why you put non-dairy creamer in your coffee, and margarine (not butter!) on your potato. You pour Italian dressing on your salad rather than Blue Cheese, and trim the extra fat off your steak. These little substitutions constitute silent acquiescence to the media messages which constantly remind us of the importance of the "low fat", "heart smart" regimen.
Is there a pattern here? Let's see: you ended up with two imitation dairy products, one dairy product replacement, and an eviscerated meat product. In each case the original item was from the animal kingdom, while its ersatz version (if any) is from the vegetable kingdom.
The message seems a little clearer now. But consider as well the National Cancer Institute's "Five a Day--For Better Health" campaign, which encourages us to eat lots of fruits and vegetables every day. Or the immense popularity of salad bars at restaurants of all stripes. It seems that, without using the name explicitly, our culture is pushing us in the direction of (gasp!) vegetarianism. And not just the generic, loosely defined, anything-goes, seafood-lacto-ovo-, feel-good kind, either. We're talking about vegetarianism as it was intended: plant food, grown in soil, from the earth.
While the reasons for this trend are not clear, it's definitely a good one. In fact, becoming a vegetarian is the most effective lifestyle change you can make to reduce your risk of serious chronic disease. Consider these statistics: women who eat meat daily have a 3.8 times higher risk of breast cancer than those who indulge once a week or less. Similarly, men who eat animal products have a 3.6 times higher risk of fatal prostate cancer than those who consume them "sparingly or not at all". And the average U.S. male has a 50% risk of death by heart attack (our nation's #1 killer), versus 4% for vegetarians.
Undoubtedly you've heard other claims for vegetarianism--how it can help solve world hunger, prevent environmental destruction, and alleviate much cruelty to animals. But there is a much more immediate and compelling argument: it's the best way to increase your chances for a long and healthy life. To use the language of risk management, adopting a vegetarian diet is an effective mitigator against the risks posed by life in the 20th century. Not to mention that it's delicious!