within the next year, you might worry a lot more, perhaps even choosing to live your life differently. And if you are told that you have 10 percent chance of dying within the next minute, youll probably panic. So its the imminent possibility of death that drives the fear-which means that the most sensible way to calculate fear of death would be to think about it on a per-hour basis. If you are taking a trip and have the choice of driving or flying, you might wish to consider the per-hour death rate of driving versus fly- ing. It is true that many more people die in the United States each year in motor vehicle accidents (roughly forty thousand) than in airplane crashes (fewer than one thousand). But its also true that most people spend a lot more time in cars than in airplanes. (More people die even in boating accidents each year than in airplane crashes; as we saw with swimming pools versus guns, water is a lot more dangerous than most people think.) The per-hour death rate of driving versus flying, how- ever, is about equal. The two contraptions are equally likely (or, in truth, unlikely) to lead to death. But fear best thrives in the present tense. That is why experts rely on it; in a world that is increasingly impatient with long-term processes, fear is a potent short-term play. Imagine that you are a gov- ernment official charged with procuring the funds to fight one of two proven killers: terrorist attacks and heart disease. Which cause do you think the members of Congress will open up the coffers for? The like- lihood of any given person being killed in a terrorist attack are infini- tesimally smaller than the likelihood that the same person will clog up his arteries with fatty food and die of heart disease. But a terrorist at- tack happens now; death by heart disease is some distant, quiet catas- trophe. Terrorist acts lie beyond our control; french fries do not. Just as important as the control factor is what Peter Sandman calls the dread factor. Death by terrorist attack (or mad-cow disease) is consid- ered wholly dreadful; death by heart disease is, for some reason, not.