By Harindra Nishshanka
In today’s rapidly evolving world, risk is no longer confined to natural disasters or isolated incidents—it is embedded in the very fabric of our modern systems. German sociologist Ulrich Beck coined this phenomenon as the Risk Society, a term that gained traction with his 1986 book Risikogesellschaft, written in the wake of the Chernobyl nuclear disaster. The radiation leak at the Ukrainian power plant shocked not only Europe but reverberated globally, even reaching Sri Lanka, where fear even drove us to switch to milk powder imports from countries like New Zealand and Australia.
Beck argued that the march of modernity, from the Industrial Revolution onward, has created as many hazards as it has solutions. By the time of his death in 2015, Beck had witnessed risk-taking on new and more complex forms—far beyond environmental catastrophe.
One of the clearest manifestations of this evolution is global terrorism. Often portrayed as the result of fanaticism or ignorance, Beck understood terrorism as a symptom of deeper geopolitical power struggles. Smaller nations suffering under its grip are not merely collateral damage—they are often pawns in a broader global chess game.
The question then arises: if the eradication of terrorism were truly a priority, could it not have been addressed more effectively? Beck suggested that perhaps the will to eliminate such threats does not always align with the interests of those in power. In a world where even knowledge is commodified, truth becomes secondary to influence and capital. As unsettling as it is, knowledge often serves power rather than challenging it.
Despite breakthroughs in modern medicine, the average citizen is not always the beneficiary of these advances. The human-centred ethos of healthcare is increasingly overshadowed by what some describe as a global health mafia. The pharmaceutical industry, with its inflated drug prices and opaque pricing models, exemplifies how essential services have been monetized, prioritizing profit over people.
This market-driven logic is not limited to medicine. Professor Watanabe Shinichi has drawn parallels between the commodification in industrial markets and the rising trade in human body parts—a chilling development suggesting that the monetization of health may be nearing a dangerous tipping point. If demand continues to grow unchecked, vulnerable populations may find themselves at risk simply for possessing healthy organs.
We live in what sociologist Manuel Castells describes as the “network society,” in which connectivity and convenience reign. But there is a darker side to this digital immersion. Our lives, data, and possessions are increasingly housed online, creating new forms of dependency. One major cyberattack could render us not just vulnerable—but powerless. And while such events might be declared acts of terrorism, the perpetrators may not always appear as we expect—they may even wear white collars.
Beck emphasized that many of the risks we now face is not naturally occurring, but manufactured. They arise from within our systems, and often, no one is held accountable. When Beck passed away in 2015, the world had yet to face the COVID-19 pandemic. Had he lived through it, he would have found tragic validation in his warnings. COVID-19 exposed the fragility of global power structures—how even the most advanced nations could be brought to their knees by a single microbe. And if this virus was merely a “mild” hazard compared to future possibilities, what then might we face next? What if a virus emerged that affected cognition or behaviour—something akin to science fiction’s zombies? Compared to such a scenario, COVID-19 might indeed seem benign.
Closer to home, the brutal and highly publicized murder of activist Dan Priyasad is yet another reflection of the risk society. What once were risks linked to environmental or technological failures have now seeped into our very social and political institutions. In Sri Lanka, the erosion of trust in enforcement agencies, political marginalization, and systemic violence represent new forms of risk—produced not by nature, but by the very systems meant to safeguard us.
Beck contended that the dangers of the modern world are increasingly self-inflicted. In Sri Lanka, the emergence of organized crime, politically motivated assassinations, and unchecked street violence underscores the idea that modernisation itself produces risks that are unequally borne—particularly by the marginalized. These dangers thrive in the absence of transparency and accountability, creating a collective vulnerability where threats come not from external enemies, but from compatriots, officials, and institutions.
The murder of Dan Priyasad is not just a singular tragedy—it is emblematic of a broader pattern. Alongside other unsolved or politically clouded killings, it becomes part of a grim narrative in which risk is both physical and psychological, systemic and institutional.
In this sense, Sri Lanka is not merely a participant in the risk society—it is a vivid and unsettling example of it.