Do all Guinness World Records deserve to be records?
I ask after reading a story about a new record. It was set this week by one David Rush, identified by UPI as a “serial record-breaker.” What was his achievement?
“Idaho Man Walks Over 1,100 Feet With Running Lawn Mower on His Chin.”
Now it’s possible Mr. Rush seeks out publicity stunts to raise awareness for good causes. If so, kudos. But why is slicing off your nose or mulching your face in a possible ghastly mishap deemed worthy of global recognition?
It reminded me of another world record from a few years ago: “Most Apples Held in Mouth and Cut by a Chainsaw in One Minute.” Maybe this was a reimagined nod to William Tell. Or maybe it was just a really bad idea. Why should the rest of us care if someone sprawls supine on a bed of spikes as motorbikes race over his tense belly?
That’s not instructive — it’s a freak show.
Maybe I’m just feeling nostalgic for the childhood memories when my paperback edition of Guinness World Records arrived in the mail. It was fascinating without resorting to sensationalist entries such as, “Heaviest Train Pulled by a Beard” or “Most Live Rattlesnakes Held in Mouth for 10 Seconds.”
Someone now owns a World Record for “Most Feet and Armpits Sniffed.”
That’s not an accomplishment — it’s a fetish.
I’ve heard more than one historian in recent months draw parallels between Western society, circa 2024, and the fall of the Roman empire. Things might actually be worse today. I mean, in ancient Rome, nobody was trying to eat a water wheel in two minutes or stand-ride a lion with the points of 50 upside-down sundials jammed in his skull.
The book’s 2025 edition was published a couple of weeks ago. It marks the brand’s 70th anniversary, which must be some kind of record for ephemera. But if you were to go back to 1955 and do a comparative analysis of every edition, my guess is you would find a year-over-year rise in both totally random entries and ones that are shockingly reckless.
Have some people died trying to set a world record? Yes. On the flip side, now just about anything can qualify as a record if the entrant gets the application greenlit by an organization that is struggling to find new ways to generate revenue as book sales slide.
There are now almost as many world records as people in this world.
You might have one and not even know it. I’m pretty sure I have the World Record for Longest Wait in a Passport Office While Sitting Next to Someone Playing Candy Crush Saga Who Was Also Hostile to Personal Hygiene.
It was all I could do to not rush the counter and demand one of the sourpusses behind the glass tear up my passport renewal and deport me. You, grumpy paper pusher, send me to a land where nobody is brainstorming ways to set a world record by deep sea diving with a grand piano strapped to a flipper.
You know how Guinness World Records can evolve after 70 years of these “OFFICIALLY AMAZING” oddball antics? It can strive to be LESS AMAZING.
Harness the sideshow ingenuity and redirect it to make the world a better place:
Hey, you, world record holder who can swallow 100 nails in 15 seconds? Stop looking for inspiration at Home Depot and start thinking of new treatments for irritable bowel syndrome. Hey, you, world record holder for longest tongue. Instead of painting with that tongue, hit the speaker circuit and philosophize on the importance of respectful dialogue in a democracy.
Then FedEx your transcripts to the Trump campaign.
Anyone can foolishly hurtle over Niagara Falls while squashed inside a picnic cooler. But it takes a special someone to think long and hard about water currents and how coastal cities may be re-engineered to withstand the growing threat of extreme weather events.
All I’m really saying today is the world needs more special someones.
Sure, you could chase down your proverbial 15 minutes of fame by doing jumping jacks atop a speeding bullet train. Or maybe you could apply that energy to solving the problem of microplastics? Maybe collaborate with the person who has the world record for most rubber duckies? Or the person with the world record for longest time without blinking?
Right now, amid war and chaos, the world is blinking too rapidly.
Guinness World Records was once a delightful compendium of human feats and curiosities. Now it’s a slow-burning dumpster fire of the utterly pointless and the dangerously unwise. Half the entries sound like PSAs for what not to do.
A man walked about three-fifths the length of the CN Tower with a lawn mower on his chin this week.
The bigger question: Who cares?
