Helmets can't protect the (already) stupid

By Matt Boxler

I fell on my head a lot when I was a kid, or so my mom tells me. This may explain why I’m now attempting the seemingly ludicrous argument against wearing helmets on the slopes, especially in this politically correct day and age. As a parent myself, I welcome helmets as a mandatory piece of equipment to protect our kids from large-bodied crazies on the mountain who wear helmets and think suddenly they’re the next coming of Hermann Maier.

As good an idea as helmets are, there is a disturbing trend at work here. Too often helmets offer a false sense of security, giving intermediate skiers the notion that they are better than they actually are, and worse, that they’re invincible. This is a dangerous attitude to take onto the mountain.

Let me go on record to say I like my helmet. On extremely cold days my helmet is very warm. When I bump my head against the chairlift bar, I’m amused by the sound it makes. When I take my helmet off in the lodge, I use it as a bucket in which I stuff all my accessories. I enjoy the challenge of securing it, wobble-free, somewhere on the table so hot chocolates are not in jeopardy.

Of course, I’m usually alone with my hot chocolate because when I shouted at the top of my lungs where I was going to all my helmet-wearing friends on the previous run, none of them heard me because they had their helmets on. If a tree falls in the woods with hundreds of helmet-wearing skiers and riders, does anybody hear it? Let’s ponder.

Now, consider the safety ramifications of a mountain full of overly fast and largely reckless skiers, none of whom can hear. Helmet manufacturers can pull the wool over your ears by suggesting your hearing is unaffected by its space-age helmet flaps, but the simple truth is that when you pull the wool of your favorite tuke over your ears instead, you can hear far better – unless, of course, you’re trying to listen to yourself chew, in which case a helmet rules.

It’s a catch-22. Rather than pushing helmets, I think the skiing “establishment” should begin by pushing the Skier’s Responsibility Code. Does anybody remember that code? The first rule is to always stay in control. Nowhere does it advise you to wear a helmet because it is implied that if everyone stays in control, there is no need for one.

The skiing “establishment” should push for enforcement of reckless speeding. Sure helmets make sense for safety in a collision, but what good does a helmet do when a speeding skier slams into a tree spleen first. What’s next, suits of armor? Imagine the additional table space that would require in lodges. Imagine all the hot chocolates spilled because somebody’s breastplate gets knocked by mistake.

All this helmet talk has people thinking in reverse. What of the good old days when skiers felt the joy and the significance of the wind in their hair, realizing that they better stay in control because if they crashed it was going to hurt real bad? I challenge all the recklessly fast skiers out there to really feel the thrill of high-speed turns by making them without a brain bucket attached to their heads. Perhaps if they weren’t lulled into the false security provided by a helmet, they’d be more inclined to improve their technique. This is skiing for god’s sake, not NASCAR.

What fun is a group photo at the top of your favorite resort when the only way you can be recognized is by the color of your coat? ‘Dad, is that really you skiing in the Swiss Alps, because this picture could be just about anyone else in the world? Ok, sure dad, if you say so ...’

As long as this is still America, litigious as it is here, I reserve the right to let my locks flow in the breeze. As long as I continue to ski responsibly and under control at all times with respect and caution for everyone on the mountain, I will choose wool over fiberglass and Kevlar. I only wish I had as much confidence in the common sense and abilities of everyone else on the mountain. In a perfect world we could all banish our helmets and feel the joy of skiing the way it was meant to be.

(Matt Boxler is a member of the North American Snowsports Journalists Association and the Eastern Ski Writer’s Association.)