So Many Fears, So Many Polls, So Little Time

A man just handed me a copy of “What We Are Afraid Of,” a new Harris poll about the things in life we fear most. I personally have a tremendous fear of men who hand me polls. A sentence that ends with a preposition is something else I am afraid of.

Harris surveyed 1,015 adults, asking if they are “very afraid” or “somewhat afraid” of this or that.

The results:

1. Snakes. Very afraid, 36%. Somewhat afraid, 63%.

2. Looking down from a great height. Very afraid, 23%. Somewhat afraid, 55%.

3. Flying on an airplane. Very, 14%. Somewhat, 35%.

4. Being alone in a forest. Very, 13%. Somewhat, 41%.

5. Spiders or insects. Very, 12%. Somewhat, 37%.

6. Mice. Very, 10%. Somewhat, 27%.

7. Thunder and lightning. Very, 5%. Somewhat, 23%.

8. Being alone in your home at night. Very, 3%. Somewhat, 14%.

9. Being alone in an elevator. Very, 3%. Somewhat, 10%.

10. Being in a big crowd of people. Very, 3%. Somewhat, 18%.

Dogs finished 11th.

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First and foremost, I would like to congratulate snakes on continuing to dominate this competition. Snakes won handily in a 1992 Harris poll of what we fear most, and are still doing a fine job, seven years later.

You’ll notice that 99% of the survey’s respondents are afraid of snakes. That’s a great batting average. Snakes should be proud of themselves.

The other 1%?

Well, these obviously are people who enjoy a good reptile . . . although I have a hunch that a portion of the 1% would respond differently if asked about “being alone with a snake in an elevator.”

As for answer No. 2 . . .

Acrophobia? How did this finish so high? All I can tell you is, with today’s prices for concerts and ballgames, you had better get used to looking down from a great height. I once had a seat in an Anaheim arena at the same approximate altitude as the Mir space station. The stage was so far away, I sat through an entire Elton John concert before I realized that it was actually Cher down there.

Being alone in a forest is something I try not to do. Those 41% of you who are “somewhat afraid,” do you go to forests by yourselves? If you do, I have to tell you something: I’m more afraid of you than I am of the forest.

Now, then . . . mice.

I have disturbing news here. According to the Harris poll, women (18%) are nine times more likely than men (2%) to be “very afraid” of mice.

This is so sad. Most of the women I know are tough. They only go “eek” and jump up on a chair when they see me in the room.

Very surprisingly, women (20%) also reportedly fear flying more than men (7%).

I asked a woman friend why.

“Probably because men fly most of the planes,” she replied.

Fear is an interesting thing. For example, I don’t understand being afraid of thunder and lightning. Lightning, yes. Lightning can turn you into a babbling fool . . . you know, like a TV anchorperson. But thunder? I stopped being afraid of loud noises when I was, oh, 35.

Humphrey Taylor, chairman of the Harris Poll, reports that people who never went to college (4%) are less likely than college graduates (6%) and postgraduates (8%) to be “very afraid” of thunder and lightning.

Just as I always suspected. Postgraduates are a bunch of wimps.

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I hope Harris will poll me next time, if this survey gets taken again in another seven years.

Nothing much scares me. Not natural disasters, roller coasters or children selling magazine subscriptions. I am not afraid of heights, mice, elevators or dogs, although I am more afraid of dogs than of heights.

However, a number of things do make me shake with fear.

They include:

1. Football mascots. 2. Southern men who play the banjo. 3. John McLaughlin. 4. A national anthem sung by Roseanne. 5. Mighty ducks. (Not regular ones. Just mighty ones.)

6. Professional wrestlers who don’t run for office. 7. Andy Rooney. 8. Authors of self-help books.

9. Female evangelists with too much eye makeup. 10. Getting trapped overnight on an escalator.

I am very afraid of six of these, somewhat afraid of the other four.

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Mike Downey’s column appears Sundays, Wednesdays and Fridays. Write to him at Times Mirror Square, Los Angeles 90053. E-mail: mike.downey@latimes.com.