We are notoriously bad at personally assessing risk, frightened to death by mad cows and airline flights, yet content to roam the cell-distracted roads and blase about our diet. In a midwestern suburb, a man bought gas masks for his family because a few people were exposed to a virus on the east coast, over a thousand miles away. What are the real chances of being exposed to a mad cow?
Perhaps there is an evolutionary advantage to tolerating unavoidable daily risk and being extra cautious of the new and unknown.