One of my favorite diagnostic exercises was called “the commitment ladder.” Part of an area called “the ropes course,” it couldn’t have been simpler in concept or construction. Two long logs were lashed to spruce trees horizontally and parallel to each other about eight feet apart, and about ten feet off the ground. Lashed to the logs like ladder rungs about five feet apart were lengths of two-inch steel pipe. You climbed a short vertical ladder to the first two horizontal rungs, which were spaced only about four feet apart, and with your feet on the first and your hands on the second, looked ahead. The job was to reach out, grab the next rung, and continue across the ladder.

Trouble was, you couldn’t reach out far enough to grab that third rung unless you pushed off from the first with your feet and left it irrevocably behind. Physically, it was a piece of cake; emotionally, it was a serious log jam. Once you got that third one, the rest were a walk in the park.

All the instructors, of course, had gone through the ropes course, just so they’d have some idea what their students were up against. I had sensed the panic myself as I faced that first reach, but with the critical eyes of the rest of the staff assessing my performance, and being more afraid of losing face than possibly falling, had launched out immediately. I was amazed and gratified how easy it really was. But I could also then appreciate the agony of some of my students who spent literally hours – even with encouraging spotters and mats beneath them – trying to screw up the courage to let go behind and reach out ahead.

That story may help to explain my bemusement, and yet help to explain why, so many people seem viscerally aroused at the prospect of any change in the way in which the United States system delivers health care to its citizens. During the past few weeks the media have been occupied with little else. So-called “town hall meetings” – actually open sessions in which members of Congress explain their positions and try to respond to their constituents – have been raucous, angry, and disruptive Some crazies, in states in which it’s legal, have even shown up with firearms strapped to their persons: trying to make a point, I suppose – rather like the guys who wear camouflage clothing in order to stand out. Supporters from the far left and right both have made wild statements that any fact-checking organization can refute; yet they are deeply felt and believed.

My favorite (and that of many folks, if you check the number of hits YouTube has gotten), is the attractive young lady who stood up at a Barney Frank town hall meeting – someone clearly more intelligent or more circumspect than she had put her up to it – holding a photo of the President defaced with a little Hitler mustache. “Why do you support a Nazi policy, as Obama has...?” she asked. Asking Barney Frank a question like that is like feeding meat into a hamburger grinder without using the wooden push rod provided for the purpose. Her friends, whoever they were, let her hang out to dry, as Barney described the futility of discussing anything with her. “Trying to have a conversation with you would be like having an argument with the dining room table!” he declared. He was right, of course; but the question remains: Why is she angry enough to deface Obama’s photograph and wave it around, and what is she afraid of?

My wife has a theory that anger is the child of fear: that if you’re afraid enough for long enough, you begin to get angry. I’ve found that a pretty good tool, and when confronted with what I consider unreasonable anger, ask myself what the person’s likely afraid of. We know, for example, why sales of firearms and ammunition are way up; many gun owners are frankly afraid that the current administration will soon move to curtail their Second Amendment rights. But what are the members of the largest demographic group opposing health insurance reform – we people over 55 years of age – afraid of? We enjoy the uncomplicated benefits of a government pension and health insurance program, and yet seek to deny the same thing to others. If that’s the American way, I missed something in history class fifty years ago.

Medicare is far from perfect, but without it I probably wouldn’t be walking today. It costs me about $200 a month to augment its coverage; and it won’t pay for my hearing aids, spectacles, or dental work. But within those limits I can operate fairly easily as long as the money holds out.

Always check out the sources of your information, and remember that their agreeing with your point of view doesn’t automatically make them factual. As Sharon Begley, the science editor for Newsweek writes, “It’s not in any of the bills, but the rationing lie sticks because people who should know better keep repeating it.” Remember that what’s being considered now in Congress is a long way from the sausage that’ll come out of the grinder in the end. Consider the feelings of government bureaucrats trying to do their jobs honestly who find their title a pejorative. Ask why here in the most innovative and productive country in the world – the home of the brave, in case you’ve forgotten – so many of us are afraid to leave the security of the status quo behind and reach for that next rung.