NO ONE who watched the International Air Display last week could fail to have been thrilled by the seat-gripping aerobatics of the RAF Red Arrows display team, whose apparently seamless precision defied the undoubted risks faced by such high-speed close-formation flying.

It is the adrenalin rush which motivates all performers, whether on the circus trapeze or competing in extreme sport or against a hostile environment. It’s the instinct to achieve something special – dangerous perhaps, rewarding certainly – against the odds and in full knowledge of the risks.

We owe it to professional risk-takers to identify the challenges and why they should be facing them. There are obviously some areas, such as the military and the emergency services, where taking risks is a vital element of daily work.

Fishermen, anyone working with animals, combating the elements, undertaking groundbreaking research or venturing into any area of the unknown will experience hazards.

The past week brought home the dangers faced by those who attempt to penetrate the dark areas of the world where exposing information puts lives at risk. No journalist, unless totally egocentric or suicidal, would willingly put their life on the line, but how would we have learned about the appalling suffering in Gaza without someone’s determination to risk the firing line when free access had been denied?

It does go wrong – witness the tragic consequences of the raid to rescue the New York Times journalist from Taliban abductors in Afghanistan.

The risks don’t have to be physical, of course. Reputation can be as ready a casualty, and risking it almost as brave. Without such resolve, Watergate may never have been exposed.

So how do bankers and their risks and rewards compare? The successful risk-taker is heralded a hero. The adulation is heady and addictive. There are those who become so high on the tension and pursuit of a gamble that there is little to distinguish their craving from a junkie with a serious medical condition.

Yet our culture has rewarded the successes of the big deal makers regardless of their consequences to such an extent that when it all came crashing down, the perpetrators and the many victims could not disconnect the perilous activity from the rewards.

And yes, we’ve been through a period of ritual humiliation and public anger, but now regulators – even governments – are stepping back from meting out punishment for failure and in one case at least, the failed risk-takers are preparing to sue for the loss of their expected rewards!

There is indeed a strong argument that risks need to be taken in order to progress, and that capping rewards will stifle enterprise. But without deterring those prepared to take on personal challenges, it is important to emphasise that there is greater value in the responsible management of risk – particularly when it involves other people’s resources or, indeed, lives.

There are good risks and bad. The crass idiots who continue to use hand-held telephones or attempt to text messages while at the driving wheel are taking an unacceptable risk with their lives and those of other citizens. On the other hand, the medical team who experiment one step further in order to discover a cure for a desperately ill patient are risking one life for the possible reprieve of that victim and countless others.

There are risks which are the product of reasoned assessment, where probabilities and consequences are calculated and agreed to. All life is a risk, for which reason we have insurance, which is itself based on risk assessment, and which, on good days, will reimburse fairly when genuine unforeseen accidents have occurred.

Of course we should be striving to minimise risks in our daily life, conscious that we will never eliminate them completely. The risk-averse zealots have done more damage to the upbringing of a healthy, inquiring generation and its fun-loving peers than ever flowed from the odd scrape or educational brush with a hard place.

And it is sad to see that the reaction to any mishap is to attempt to throw an even thicker net of restriction or prohibition. How will folk ever learn to cope with their environment or happenstance? In a caring society, we charge those in authority to act on our behalf to combat risk. ‘Catch it, bin it, kill it’ is principally an attempt to contain the risk of swine flu, but it is also a prudent piece of general health advice. It won’t eradicate he risk, but it may reduce it.

Less palatable are the heavy-handed measures hastily enacted by a jittery State apparatus which by addressing one risk inadvertently compounds others. In the name of reducing the risk of child abuse, the quaintly named Independent Safeguarding Authority has stirred up a furore in the UK by insisting that parents and volunteers submit to obligatory criminal vetting if they go within a playground’s length of youngsters.

There is no question that the safety of children and the vulnerable is paramount, but it risks widespread alienation and crippling support activities crucial to the development and decent upbringing of the next generation.

There is also the extra risk, which increases with every mislaid computer disc and file folder, of confidential information being ‘lost’ or misappropriated.

We have to hope that enough young pioneers can negotiate the numbing mist of institutional risk aversion to confront the challenges that provide the thrills and excitement of pitting their skills and experience against the odds – despite the risks.