Cows. They seem so gentle, chewing their grass along country roads.
But beneath that docile exterior is a deadly menace. In fact, bovine attacks kill about 20 Americans each year – typically more than sharks, bears, or school shootings combined.
Sharks scare us more, yet kill only 5 Americans annually. Bears? They maul about 2 people to death each year. And while school shootings are tragic and horrifying, they don’t take nearly as many lives as cow stompings.
Yet cows don't get the same media treatment. There's no "Cow Week" on the Discovery Channel, no breathless news reports about the "bovine menace."
Imagine if the media covered cow attacks like they do plane crashes or mass shootings. We'd have 24/7 coverage, complete with fancy graphics and ominous theme music: "Hooves of Death: Are You at Risk?" or "Mad Cow: The Silent Killer in Your Pasture".
Pundits would speculate endlessly about the motives of these mad cows, and society’s inability to solve this problem once and for all. Politicians would grandstand for stricter bovine control laws. Social media would explode with hashtags like #FarmerStrong.
But in reality, cow attacks barely register a blip on the media radar. It's not that the deaths are less tragic. It's just that cow carnage doesn't drive clicks or sell papers. So these killers continue their reign of terror, unchecked and unreported.
Cow Attacks, In Perspective
In truth, most cow-related fatalities involve farm workers or those who work closely with cattle. These deaths often result from blunt force trauma – kicks, trampling, or crushing.
The CDC tells us that most fatal cow attacks are by bulls, with the remaining split between individual female cows and multiple-cattle attacks. Most of those who die are older and overwhelmingly male. And, all puns and media complaints aside, the killings are truly violent.
Those 20 deaths are tragic, yet pale in comparison to the 42,000 annual traffic fatalities in America. And yet, like cow attacks, we rarely see sensationalized reports about the "killer cars" stalking our streets. We recognize that driving carries risks, and we put those risks in context.
The same logic applies to cows. Working with large animals always involves some danger. It's a risk that farmers and ranchers accept as part of the job.
Our Skewed Perception of Risk
The way we perceive the threat of cow attacks reveals a lot about how we consume media and assess risk. We're far more likely to die from mundane causes than headline-grabbing events like shark attacks or airplane crashes.
But fear sells. And in a 24-hour news cycle, the most sensational stories get the most airtime, regardless of the actual risk they pose.
So the next time you see a sensational report about the latest impending doom, remember the humble cow. The real dangers in life are often far more ordinary – and far less reported on – than we're led to believe.
We live in a world full of risks, both large and small. We can't eliminate them all, but we can put them in perspective.
The things that scare us the most aren't always the things most likely to harm us.
– Ken
PS: Professor Wilfred Reilly’s X post inspired this column. He has interesting perspectives on life.
I grew up on a Texas cattle ranch. Cattle are typically docile, shy away from people, even smallish 40 pound dogs can control a large herd of them. There are only two general circumstances in my memory that require maximum caution:
-two bulls fighting for dominance. They literally can fight to the death in some events, but certainly to the point of exhaustion. They become so focused on one another they become oblivious to their surroundings. Nothing and no one had best be in their way. This is why ranchers take great precaution in keeping bulls in separate pastures - bulls are a huge investment, best not lose one
- mother cows with their calves will attack with unrelenting energy. Standard practice on our ranch was to tag newborns, 1-4 days old, so we could register their proper parentage. A young sleeping calf is fairly easy to capture and tag…as long as mama is effectively first distracted. My dad and I became pretty adept at setting up this ploy except for the time we didn’t. I was standing nearby and witnessed a mother cow walk up to my 250 pound father. She was deceptively docile, slowly walked forward until the flat of the front of her head was within inches of his chest. Then in a second merely raised her head full force propelling him 20 feet in the air. Fortunately he escaped with only a fractured wrist.
Cattle can inadvertently do great harm just walking by in cramped quarters they weigh a lot and, when you think about it, have a lot of muscle - that’s the part we raise them for, after all.
Assault cows must be banned! The government needs to institute a buy back program!!!