Imagine if a man visiting the zoo climbed the fence to the tiger enclosure and walked across the top. Imagine if he laid down on the fence and smiled. People would point and scream. Imagine if he spent 45 minutes walking back and forth. A crowd would gather. Security would come blazing in. When the man would finally jump down, would the crowd clap for him? When the story would appear in the newspaper, would the masses read it and think, “I’d like to do that in the future?” Decades later, would people glorify his walk? The answer to all three questions is a resounding no. Society would label him a madman.

Now imagine the fence 90 times taller—imagine the fence is a wire strung across New York’s World Trade Centers. The man’s name is Philippe Petit, a 24-year-old stuntman. He doesn’t have a safety net. And the crowd is clapping.

The Big Apple sat with its mouth agape when Petit dismounted from the high wire. Society labeled him a hero. He became an instant celebrity 40 years ago, and he remains one now. Petit was the subject of the 2008 documentary “Man On Wire.” Now “The Walk,” directed by Robert Zemeckis and starring Joseph Gordon-Levitt as Petit, arrives in theaters on Sept. 30.

Sure, the feat struck awe in the hearts of ordinary folks watching from 1,350 feet below the Twin Towers, but is it really something to be admired? It was 100 percent illegal. It carried monumental risks­—including falling off the wire and splattering on the ground a quarter mile below. What was the point? What were the benefits?

Yet society raised Petit onto a podium and applauded him for breaking the law. Although police arrested him shortly after his display, Manhattan district attorney Richard H. Kuh dropped all charges. In return for performing at Central Park for free, Petit received a “Get Out of Jail Free” card.

Now we continue to revere an action that accomplished little besides drawing attention. With “The Walk,” society carries on condoning and even encouraging massive risk-taking and law-breaking in the face of insane daredevilry. The movie says to the world, “Yes, we love people who risk their lives for no reason other than for the sake of being reckless. Let them do what they want, as long as it’s sensational!”

But is Petit a role model? A good example? The movie is rated PG—do we want children across the country to say, “Where can I learn how to balance on a wire hundreds of feet above the ground?” Once again: no, no and no. Put simply, lionizing daredevils breeds more daredevils. If the skies were filled with Petits dancing on high wires, the nation would be a wreck—an intrepid, adventure-seeking wreck, but a wreck nonetheless.

We’ve created a dilemma for ourselves in which we laud people three times as brazen than ourselves but at the same time wish to avoid creating a world full of overly brazen people. The solution is to stop praising recklessness.

Society’s hypocrisy also highlights the treatment we give to “normal” heroes, including the ones we see right here in CHS: teachers, principals, coaches, school nurses, counselors, custodians—even the girl who picks up trash from the floor or the guy who helps a new student navigate the halls. We take these people for granted and focus our attention on adrenaline-fueled swashbucklers.

At the end of the day, the question remains. Who do we want to emulate: someone who wants to contribute to society or a man who climbs on top of a romanticized fence? The answer is immediately obvious. What remains is to reflect it in whom we choose to admire.
The views in this column do not necessarily reflect the views of the HiLite staff. Reach Jessica Mo at [email protected].