Why Don’t the Dutch Wear COVID Masks?

Vlog

This post is available as a vlog. Why? Just trying to serve you better! Perhaps you just got back from the eye doctor and your pupils are dilated, so it’s really hard to read the screen text. In that case, just roll the video, kick back, gaze at the blurry talking head—or not!—and let the audio monologue wash over you, leaving you deeply edified, catatonic, or both! (For the regular text version just scroll down. Obviously.)

Introduction

I was surprised to learn recently that the Dutch government not only doesn’t require face masks to stop the spread of the coronavirus, but formally opposes masks, telling people that they don’t help and might even hurt. I decided to delve into this and learn more about it—not just by reading up on the subject, but by sending a survey to both Dutch and American citizens, to compare the results. In the process I have, surprisingly enough, hit upon a novel way forward that could really help.

What the Dutch government says about masks

According to this article in the British Daily Mail, Coen Berends,  spokesman for the Dutch National Institute for Public Health and the Environment, stated, “Face masks in public places are not necessary, based on all the current evidence. There is no benefit and there may even be negative impact.”

(Based on all the current evidence? Like, every study worldwide? Really? This post isn’t primarily focused on the effectiveness of masks, but for more on this question see the appendix.)

The article goes on to say, “Christian Hoebe, a professor of infectious diseases in Maastricht … [and] head of infectious disease control in Zuid-Limburg, the region hit hardest when the pandemic struck Holland, pointed to a Norwegian study showing 200,000 people must wear surgical masks for one week to stop a single Covid-19 case.”

Okay, I’m just going to stop right here and cry bullshit on the Norwegian study. It fails the sanity test. Meanwhile, basing Dutch policy on a Norwegian study seems a bit flimsy now, considering that the government of Norway, two weeks ago, revised their own position on masks. According to this article, “the ministry recommends face masks as an extra precaution when it is difficult to maintain a ‘social distance’ of one meter or more on public transportation.” Granted, this is still a far cry from a nationwide mandate, but if the Norwegian government really believed 200,000 people must mask up for a week to stop one case, they wouldn’t have made this recommendation. The researchers who came up with that 200K figure are, in strict epidemiological terms, whacked out on coke and smack.  (I note that Holland already mandates masks on public transit.)

Setting aside the Norwegian article, let’s dig in to the Dutch government’s assertion that there’s no benefit and there could be possible negative impact. According to this Reuters article, “RIVM chief Jaap van Dissel … argued wearing masks incorrectly, together with worse adherence to social distancing rules, could increase the risk of transmitting the disease. ‘So we think that if you’re going to use masks (in a public setting) ... then you must give good training for it,’ he said.”

Okay, so here’s a novel idea: how about simply providing that training? How hard could it be? After all, the Dutch have done a great job teaching contraception. As described here, they have the lowest abortion rate in Europe. I think van Dissel’s lack of faith here seems unreasonably defeatist.

And how about empirically investigating the relationship between mask wearing and social distancing? Turns out, a study has done just this. As detailed here, “A group of researchers observed people walking the streets of the Dutch capital and found that wearing masks did not give anyone a false sense of security … As part of the research, Lindegaard analysed video footage from June 1 of a shopping street in Amsterdam that was not particularly overcrowded. The footage showed that people wearing a mask violated the 1,5 metre distance rule just as frequently as people not wearing masks. Her research also found that 80 percent of those wearing masks wore them correctly.”

(Note that this fellow here is French, not Dutch.)

How do the Dutch people feel about masks?

Masks are frankly a pain in the ass, so it’s not surprising that crack investigative journalism turned up some decidedly anti-mask attitudes. The Daily Mail article reported that the Dutch government’s policy has brought about “the delight of all the citizens I spoke with in Amsterdam. ‘I hate wearing them,’ said Aicha Meziati, 29, in the hip fashion store Das Werk Haus. ‘They are horrible. People look like they have nappies on their faces.’”

(Since most of my audience is American, I’ll point out here that a) a “nappy” is a diaper, and b) both paper and cloth masks can resemble diapers. Probably few Americans have ever seen a cloth diaper, but trust me, they look a whole lot like white cloth face masks, like the ones my employer mailed me.)

Notwithstanding the retail employee’s pithy statement (which, by the way, showcases a rather naïve attitude toward the seriousness of this pandemic), the Mail goes on to say that “two recent polls claim a majority [of Dutch citizens] back use of face masks for indoor public spaces.” The Mail doesn’t cite either poll, but I found this article that states, “In a weekly poll conducted by political researcher Maurice de Hond, 55 percent of the [Dutch] people surveyed revealed they think face masks should be made compulsory in order to help battle a second wave of the coronavirus.”

I wouldn’t put too much stock in any one survey, but I’ll bet there are more Dutch citizens who support a mask mandate in the abstract than there are Dutch citizens who actually wear masks. It’s human nature to go with the flow and not be that odd person taking a precaution that nobody else is. If I somehow found myself in Holland right now, I’d be more conflicted about going outside with a mask on than I am in the U.S., because I wouldn’t want anyone construing my behavior as a silent judgment against theirs.

Now let’s get to my survey results, and the thoughtful comments from my Dutch respondents, whose direct personal experience can nicely supplement the stuff I’ve read online.

The survey responses

I’ll have to start out by saying my survey was not very broad … only three Dutch citizens responded. I’m only one guy and the research budget for albertnet is zero. Still, I hope you’ll agree three bits of anecdotal evidence are better than nothing. (If you don’t, click here.)

Of the three Dutch respondents to my poll, none wears a mask. Two of these respondents, asked why not, chose the answer, “I’m not sure the Dutch government is right about masks but I don’t wear one because if I did, I would stand out.”

The third respondent chose the answer “I agree with the Dutch government that masks aren’t helpful so I don’t wear one,” with this added comment: “While I answered no, I do think masks would be useful if they: - Are quality masks - Are switched regularly (never worn consecutively) - Are actually worn over the mouth and nose. However as is the case, the quality masks that make a difference are reserved for healthcare workers. This leaves the rest to wear masks that don’t really work.” So this is a bit different than saying masks couldn’t help.

Asked if the Dutch government should require masks, one Dutch respondent answered yes, “Because it makes it more visible that Covid is present. Makes people more aware that they have to keep distance.” The two others could  not decide. One of these two says, “I think it’ll cause too much protest” and the other says “if it was made easier (or cheaper) to get quality masks, and everyone does it correctly, I would make it mandatory.”

Holland vs. U.S.

I’m not going to compare overall Covid rates between the US and Holland, nor compare the efficacy of our governments, other than to say when I mentioned the Dutch government’s position to my daughter, she replied, “I love that we’re not the only idiots!”

What I want to explore is how consensus in a community can be a very comforting thing, especially during such difficult times. I mentioned already that in the absence of a mandate the Dutch people will tend to behave the same—that is, not wear masks.

Happily, I don’t have to worry about offending anyone in my community when I wear a mask. Of the 19 American respondents (all of whom are on my bike club, and are thus local), 17 believe masks help, and two chose “I really don’t know.” Regarding a nationwide mask mandate, 15 support it, three can’t decide, and only one opposes it. My American respondents’ comments tended to be about wide open spaces and the need to address regional differences but with consistent, national thresholds applied.

Suffice to say we’re all on the same page in my neighborhood. Contrast this to other parts of the U.S. where you can be hassled for wearing a mask, or for not wearing one, depending on your neighborhood and/or whom you happen to encounter. At least in California we have a statewide mandate, so wearing a mask doesn’t make much of a statement (other than “I don’t want to get in trouble with the law”). Nobody can differentiate between the “us” who only wear a mask because they’re required to, and the “them” who really believe masks are helpful (or vice-versa if you’re on the other side of the fence). So you have widespread adoption of a behavior that reduces the spread of the coronavirus, without all the social friction. I would love to see this be adopted nationwide, and I think this would help in the Netherlands as well. Anywhere, really.

Can the Dutch government change their tune?

Initially, the CDC in the U.S., along with the World Health Organization, discouraged the use of masks, but as more data have become available, both agencies have changed their position. Is it realistic to assume the Netherlands may eventually fall in line?

Well, it could be tricky politically. This Dutch News article points out, “Last week microbiologist and epidemiologist Amrish Baidjoe wrote an open letter to the cabinet urging ministers to back the wearing of masks indoors. He accused [RIVM Chief] Van Dissel and prime minister Mark Rutte of being worried about the damage to their image if they changed their mind. ‘They have been saying masks do not work for too long, and that makes it difficult to change,’ he said. ‘It is part of a trend of being far too definitive in communication about things which are not so certain.’”

It could be that this accusation is unfair, and/or the supposed fear of political embarrassment is unfounded. My (albeit tiny) survey suggests this. I asked how my Dutch respondents would feel if the government changed their minds and started requiring masks in public. Two chose the reply “I would be relieved because I think we’d be safer with a mask requirement” and the third chose “None of the above” and commented, “I would be annoyed because masks are annoying. However, if they made it mandatory they probably did it based on scientific research. This would make me relieved because that means there is a safer way to go out in public. If they did it without any reason I would pick option 3 [less respect for Dutch government].” Fair enough.

I asked specifically if the Dutch respondents would lose respect for their government simply for abandoning their initial position (i.e., for being wishy-washy). Two responded that “This wouldn’t affect my opinion of the Dutch government” and one added, “I like that the government bases the decisions on science and follows what the RIVM says about it. I realize new studies can show new things and I trust the RIVM in evaluating what studies are trustable.” The third respondent chose the response, “I would have more respect for Dutch government because they can admit when they’re wrong.”

Is there a quick fix?

Unfortunately, to get the Dutch government to change their position would require that new evidence be put in front of them, or that they take another look at existing studies … both of which would take precious time, while the rate of infection is climbing. Is there another, faster way forward?

There is! We don’t actually need to persuade the Dutch government that masks prevent airborne transmission of the coronavirus … we just need to give them other reasons why masks should be worn. I have come up with three very compelling ones.

First, if aligned with a powerful campaign of public service announcements, a mask mandate could increase social distancing behaviors. The key is to focus on a particular side effect of prolonged mask wearing: maskne. This is the problem of mask-induced acne, and as detailed here, it’s a real enough problem that “the Covid-19 task force of the American Academy of Dermatology (A.A.D.) felt compelled to release advice on the subject.” So, if a nation is required to wear masks in public, and masks cause maskne, what is the natural human reaction? To stay home! And that’s exactly what needs to happen. Too many people are going out there on stupid, needless errands just because they’re bored of being housebound. Well, boo hoo hoo … people are dying! If you hired a bold filmmaker like Lars von Trier to create an absolutely grotesque and graphic PSA video of mask-induced acne, with a tagline like “Maskne is not worth it … please just stay home,” the good people of Holland might do just that.

Next, we need to point out to the Dutch government a simple fact that so often goes unappreciated: masks can be very, very sexy. Just look at how beautiful and mysterious this woman looks:

The fact is, even if not all people are beautiful, almost everybody has pretty eyes. Alas, so often the effect of nice eyes is ruined by nose hair, unkempt beards, cigarette-stained teeth, or a weak chin. A mask easily hides these shortcomings. The trick is to furnish the Dutch people with elegant masks that actually enhance their appearance. It would be a pity if somebody spoiled the effect with an ill-advised design like one of these:

Finally, we need to impress upon the Dutch government that the pandemic is not the only global crisis right now: there’s also the economic turmoil that Covid-19 has wrought. It’s time to get businesses back on their feet, and masks can be a big part of that. How? One word: advertising. These pro cycling teams have the right idea:

If the Dutch government suddenly mandated the wearing of masks when in public, for these reasons alone and irrespective of masks’ efficacy in reducing airborne spread of the coronavirus, they could slow the spread of COVID-19 and eventually look like heroes to the Dutch people.

Appendix – Should we believe that masks help?

This study “provides evidence from a natural experiment on the effects of state government mandates for face mask use in public issued by fifteen states plus Washington, D.C., between April 8 and May 15, 2020 … Mandating face mask use in public is associated with a decline in the daily COVID-19 growth rate by 0.9, 1.1, 1.4, 1.7, and 2.0 percentage points in 1–5, 6–10, 11–15, 16–20, and 21 or more days after state face mask orders were signed, respectively. Estimates suggest that as a result of the implementation of these mandates, more than 200,000 COVID-19 cases were averted by May 22, 2020.”

Meanwhile, this publication declares, “In countries with cultural norms or government policies supporting public mask-wearing, per-capita coronavirus mortality increased on average by just 8.0% each week, as compared with 54% each week in remaining countries.”

The University of California at San Francisco (UCSF) medical school is very highly respected, and I have all too much firsthand experience with their hospitals and medical centers, all of it positive. They published this very compelling article explaining why masks are helpful, and how the CDC and WHO came to reverse their earlier positions. Among other evidence, the article cites case studies from UC San Francisco epidemiologist George Rutherford, MD and infectious disease specialist Peter Chin-Hong, MD: “In one case, a man flew from China to Toronto and subsequently tested positive for COVID-19. He had a dry cough and wore a mask on the flight, and all 25 people closest to him on the flight tested negative for COVID-19. In another case, in late May, two hair stylists in Missouri had close contact with 140 clients while sick with COVID-19. Everyone wore a mask and none of the clients tested positive.”

Of course, you don’t need to believe any of this to support a worldwide mask mandate. The Netherlands should impose one for the indisputable social value of masks: their sex appeal, the advertising space, and the maskne-driven increase in improved shelter-in-place behaviors.

More reading on the pandemic 

• Shelter-in-Place FAQ
• E-Book Options During COVID-19 Lockdown
• Is Cycling Safe During the COVID-19 Pandemic?
• The Toilet Paper Hoarding Conundrum
• More COVID Chronicles – Baking in Place
• When Will the Pandemic End?
• What Are Hospitals Like During the Pandemic?
• How to Talk to Your Cat About COVID-19
• Teleworking During the COVID-19 Pandemic
• Travel Tips During the COVID-19 Pandemic
• COVID Wristbands

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Email me here. For a complete index of albertnet posts, click here.

Bike Helmets

Introduction

I bought a new bike helmet. No, you can’t see it; this is a blog, not Show & Tell. But the selection and purchase got me thinking about bike helmets. And a couple of things have been nagging me about helmets lately anyway.

First, in my New Year’s Resolution post I didn’t resolve to wear my helmet whenever I ride, though I’d thought about making this a resolution. Occasionally when riding my kids to school—on the sidewalk—I haven’t worn a helmet, and a fellow parent commented on this recently (using the phrase “bad dad,” no less). I doubt any of the school kids look up to me, but what if they did? I’m not in the habit of making resolutions I don’t intend to keep, but I’m on the verge of toppling off the fence on this one.

Second, I’ve been thinking about my comment in my last post about the dorky helmet James Bond once wore motorcycling. You may well imagine that I got a lot of heat for that, but you’d be wrong—I haven’t heard a word. Nor would I retract the statement that Bond, the fictitious and apparently invincible character, shouldn’t wear a helmet. But I guess I wasn’t really thinking about the stuntman, who, it now occurs to me, perhaps deserves head protection. (My myopia on that isn’t unique; consider the disclaimer in movie credits that says “No animals were harmed in the making of this film,” and then ask yourself, what did the crew eat on the set every day?)

This post examines my history with the bike helmet, primarily for the reader’s amusement.

What this post is not

This post is not an appeal to cyclists to wear their helmets. Why not? Is it because I don’t think helmets are necessary? No, it’s almost the opposite: the value of bike helmets is so widely acknowledged in this country, I really don’t need to make this appeal. Even the pro racers in Europe are required to wear legit, hard-shell helmets now, and every cyclist I ride with wears a helmet on every training ride. In the entire Bay Area cycling community, I know of only one rider who still goes helmetless, apparently due to vanity. (In his case, it backfires; to me, it just makes him look old, because a) riding without a helmet associates you with a bygone era, and b) he’s balding.)

(Within the shelter of these parentheses, I will concede that it would be pretty embarrassing to suffer a head injury during a short errand ride. Early last year I was riding, helmetless, to my kids’ school when the frame broke on my commuter bike. Part of my relief in managing not to crash was that I wouldn’t have to feel like an idiot for not having had a helmet on. But I’m not living up to the title for this section—I’m starting to nag. Fear not, the rest of this post will be decidedly non-didactic.)

My first helmet

Imagine my delight when I opened a gift-wrapped box on Christmas morning, 1979 or 1980, and laid eyes on my first bike helmet. I hope you have a good imagination, because there was actually zero delight. I suppose there was a bit of curiosity—this helmet, the Bell Biker, was among the first I’d ever seen—but instantly I knew I’d catch hell from other kids for wearing a helmet to ride a bike. It’s easy enough for kids now to embrace helmet use—not only are bike helmets ubiquitous now, but in many places it’s the law—but back then, bike helmets were unheard of. My brothers and I were waaaaaay ahead of everybody else here. Some people in such a situation become trend-setters, like the Plastics in “Mean Girls,” but my brothers and I were socially retarded to begin with. Whatever the odds of getting a head injury in a bike accident, we know they were lower than the 100% chance of being ostracized for our Bell Bikers. This helmet was a double-bummer: not only would I have to wear the thing, but it was my main Christmas present that year. Sweet.

The helmet was big and white and gaudy. I don’t have a photo handy but click here and scroll halfway down the page and you’ll see it. The print ad for this helmet showed a cut-away cross-section of the helmet with a ruler showing the thickness; the caption read, “The difference between our helmets and the others is about an inch.” Like that over-thick Styrofoam was a benefit. Since my three brothers and I all got helmets and my dad didn’t want us getting them mixed up, he bought 3M Scotchlite in four colors—one per kid—and added it to our helmets. I got red. For some reason, you got more in the roll of red Scotchlite than other colors, so I got extra stripes.

Eventually the helmet pads started to wear out. They were about a centimeter thick and made of soft spongy stuff, just like those off-brand sink sponges that your cheap college roommate bought instead of Scotch-Brite. The pads wore out fast, especially the front one that got most of the sweat, and after rotating his own pads for awhile, each of us would raid his brother’s helmet and swap out his own grody front pad for his brother’s less grody back pad. I got sick of my pads getting snaked, so I took a magic marker and made a dot on each of my pads—kind of like a rancher branding his cattle. My brothers thought this was a great idea and went one better: they inked their first initial and last name on each pad (e.g., “BALBERT,” “GALBERT”). What they didn’t realize was that their sweat would react with the ink, and they’d have all this backward writing on their forehead after a ride. I secretly enjoyed this. Since the labeling had been my idea, this was the closest I’d ever come to writing on my brothers’ faces with a felt tip as they slept.

The social outcast effect

As predicted, the helmets made my brothers and me pariahs. It was tempting to think this was my dad’s actual reason for making us wear them, just to build character. (After all, he never got us sunglasses, which might have looked cool, or sunscreen, which might have at least made us smell like the lifeguards that got all the chicks.) But more likely, our dad was just ahead of his time. (Decades later, he cautioned me about trans fats, long before I—or anybody else—had heard of them.) When our dad suggested that we wear our helmets roller-skating, I finally put my foot down. Does this mean I stood up to my old man? Of course not—I just stopped going to the roller rink.

It was my second helmet, though, that made things really bad. I got a Bell Tourlite when my first helmet got run over by our car in 1983. I have always suspected my brother Max was involved in the destruction of that first helmet. First of all, it was crushed right after Max and I had been in a big fight; moreover, moments after the helmet was smashed Max came running into the house with it, gleefully holding it above his head like a trophy. Of course I couldn’t pin anything on him and I got in big trouble. My mom took me to a bike shop for a replacement, and they were out of the Bell Biker. I hated the Tourlite on sight: it had tiny vents, fancier stripes, and a dorky tinted visor. The front pad wasn’t velcroed on but just sort of sat there, framed by soft foam. It was a fake chamois pad and looked just like a club cracker. I knew this pad would get lost (or stolen by an envious brother) in no time, and I wasn’t wrong. But I couldn’t very well protest the Tourlite purchase, since I was in trouble anyway. I tried to make the helmet less awful by snapping off the visor, and I guess it helped a bit. Here’s a photo of it:

My best friend at the time didn’t like the Tourlite at all. We were in the process of drifting apart anyway, and this escalated the process. “Why’d you get that?” he complained. “I thought we agreed it was ugly!” It seems silly to claim that a friendship could be compromised by a helmet, but it really could, and was. In fact, my brothers Geoff and Bryan were also snubbed by one of their best friends over their helmets. He’d ride to junior high with them, but a few blocks from the school would make them go on ahead. “It’s not that I don’t like you guys,” he said, “it’s just that I can’t be seen with you.” (Rest assured, he got his: not long after this, his own parents started making him wear a helmet too, along with his little brother, who suffered the added indignity of being made to ride only on the sidewalk.)

That same summer, when I was fourteen, I went on kind of a blind date. There had been two girls my age hanging around the neighborhood one day, and I fell into a weeks-long phone-based quasi-romance with one of them. (I never figured out which one it was.) Finally we agreed to meet up, and chose a video arcade downtown as our rendezvous point. This presented a problem: the place was about five miles from my house, so I had to ride my bike there, and I knew if I showed up wearing a helmet I’d be spurned for sure. At the same time, I was convinced if I rode all the way across town without the helmet, I was bound to run into my dad and get busted. (This may seem paranoid to you, but my brothers and I would frequently bump into our dad at any hour of the day and in any part of town. It was weird.) So after much deliberation I decided I’d better wear the helmet. I got a half a mile or so out when I changed my mind again, rode home, and ditched it. All the way to the arcade I sweated it, worrying about seeing my dad. To say I felt naked without my helmet isn’t enough; I felt like I was naked in church. When I got to the arcade I realized that after all my indecision and dallying, I was like half an hour late, and the girl had bailed. She never talked to me again.

Anti-helmet arguments

Of course my brothers and I wouldn’t have dared argue with our dad about the necessity of the bike helmet, but Max did argue with the other three of us. He alone dared ride without a helmet, and occasionally did get busted. His rationale was, “If I crash hard enough to need a helmet, I’m going to mess up my bike, and if I mess up my bike, I’ll want to be dead.”

As helmets became more common, many others developed anti-helmet arguments. One use of such arguments was to justify the use of a leather “hairnet” helmet in bike races instead of a hard-shell; as late as the early ‘80s a hairnet was all that was required for U.S. races. Some argued that a big hard-shell helmet increased your chances of falling, as if the weight of it would drag you to the ground—kind of a reverse-Weeble-wobble theory. Others argued that having a helmet on would encourage you to take unnecessary risks. When hard-shell helmets became mandatory in U.S. amateur races, some racers complained that the weight caused neck strain. (They must have been airheads for the helmet weight to even matter.)

But there was one day when my friend Peter and I did stumble on a solid argument against helmets. We were out on a training ride and were bored out of our skulls. Pete decided, on a whim, to grab one of my helmet straps and drag me around by it. I retaliated by grabbing his helmet strap, and right away we were weaving all over the road. Suddenly our handlebars got all tangled up, and for a brief moment we stared at each other in shock. Then we were both sailing over the bars, and we stacked pretty hard. We went back to his place to treat our road rash and fix our bikes, and his mom said, “At least you were wearing your helmets.” Pete replied, “If we hadn’t been wearing our helmets, the crash never would have happened.” And he was right!

About the silliest excuse I heard was a couple years later when Peter was on the 7-Eleven junior team. As we headed out for a ride (I in a helmet, he not), his mom hassled him. “I can’t wear one,” he explained, “because we haven’t ironed out our helmet sponsor for this year and I can’t risk being seen in the wrong helmet.”

Fun with helmets

By the mid-‘80s, when hard-shell helmets became mandatory for racing, I could wear a helmet without shame. By that time the Bell V1-Pro had come out, and being a bit smaller than earlier hard-shells and styled after a hairnet, it was not so bad looking. Moreover, the pinstripes and logos were easier to remove, so you could give your helmet a stripped-down road-warrior look. Here’s a photo:

When the foam-only no-shell helmets came out, you could personalize your helmet: you could put on your own fabric cover, or not wear a cover at all. When I rode for the UC Santa Barbara team, we all got fabric covers to match our team uniforms. These covers had colored side panels and a white mesh center section that went over the vents. Screwing around while warming up for the UCLA hill climb, I turned my helmet cover sideways. The effect was that from a distance, it appeared my head was turned. My teammate Trevor laughed and turned his helmet cover sideways, too. This ended up giving us an unexpected psychological advantage in the race: as we both hammered at the front of the pack, a couple of riders toward the back thought we were just chatting while they got dropped. They were so miffed they complained to us afterward for showing off.

Here’s a photo (from a 1989 collegiate team time trial in Colorado) showing three different helmet choices. Trevor has removed the cover and used an ink stamp to make a barbed wire pattern all over his helmet. I’ve turned my cover sideways (well, askew). Mark has eschewed his free team-issue Bell helmet for the more fashionable Giro.

What I don’t have a photo of, but I wish I did, is our teammate Dan’s customer helmet cover that he made out of a pair of underwear (briefs, not boxers). He’d written “JOCKEY FOR POSITION” on the back in felt tip. He actually raced in that thing, and he was fast!

Helmets today

When helmets were something only safety-minded scientist-types wore, ugliness was okay—in fact, it was a badge of honor. In those days, manufacturers could get away with a pretty mediocre product: a helmet that was hot, heavy, and hard to get to fit right. But the helmets got better, and became more popular, and the two trends reinforced each other: a bigger market meant more R&D money.

When helmets became common (and eventually required) in the pro peloton, the state of the art got a nice boost. Pros demanded a decent helmet. (A nice side effect has been more money for the pro teams, as helmet companies pay for the privilege of outfitting them.) Modern helmets are pretty sweet: they’re light, have great vents, look pretty cool, and have these nifty adjustable ratchet systems to snug them up.

(Fit really is important. I once replaced the free Aria Sonics helmet I got from my bike team because I couldn’t keep it from sliding back on my head. On my first ride out with my perfect-fitting Giro helmet, I crashed really badly and was knocked out cold. The helmet performed perfectly; no question I’d be dead or severely brain-damaged had I been wearing no helmet, or an ill-fitting one.)

Even the modern kids’ helmets are really nifty—who wouldn’t want to wear one?

Who wouldn’t want to wear one? The Dutch, that’s who. None of the bike commuters wear helmets over there. (Perhaps it’s the same all over Europe; I don’t really know.) Granted, in the Netherlands the bike paths are great, the motorists seem alert, and the big black 3-speed “opafiets” bikes aren’t exactly built for speed. But still, you’d be hard pressed to find anybody (other than a bike racer) who even owns a bike helmet over there. Here’s a pretty typical photo:

I got that picture from a web photo album that a guy put together showing 82 bike photos he took in a 73-minute period on a fall day in Amsterdam. I counted 112 bikers and zero helmets on this website, and have seen much the same thing during my visits over there.

Ah, the astute reader has surmised, Dana is about to break his promises and start preaching! And he’s going to wax patriotic while he’s at it! Actually, no. I don’t wear a helmet when I ride in the Netherlands either, except on training rides. Neither does my brother, nor do my nieces and nephew over there. It just seems unnecessary, over there. I did a small bit of research and discovered a fascinating analysis concluding that you’re more likely to be murdered in the United States than killed while bicycling (helmetless, by definition) in Amsterdam.

But over here, I’m happy to wear my helmet. After all, I’ve paid my dues … the social outcast years are way behind me.

dana albert blog