The death of Donda West, mother of hip-hop artist Kanye West, has generated a lot of media discussion about the risks and dangers of plastic surgery. There have always been risks associated with plastic surgery, yet you wouldn’t know that from the way plastic surgery is depicted on television. There seems to be an endless variety reality TV shows such featuring plastic surgery: Dr. 90210, Plastic Surgery New York Style, Ultimate Plastic Surgery Before & After, Plastic Surgery Beverly Hills, and Big Medicine. Not being a great fan of the genre, I can’t say for certain, but I would assume that these shows don’t feature a lot of stories where patients die after procedures.

These shows have a powerful effect: a study conducted by the American Society of Plastic Surgeons revealed that “first-time patients seeking cosmetic plastic surgery are directly influenced to have surgery by the plastic surgery reality television shows they watch.” (Click here for details.)

And so it seems, from the number of shows featuring plastic surgery, that everyone is doing it. However, Washington Post writer Robin Givhan has observed an interesting undercurrent in the media coverage of Mrs. West’s death: “the underlying message became that indulging in plastic surgery is inherently selfish and narcissistic,” that people seeking cosmetic surgery are “courting tragedy” and looking for “easy answers.”

Below is an excerpt from her article, “Plastic Surgery’s Allure Cuts Both Ways.” I think that she makes a compelling argument about the messages we receive.

“There’s no way to know what was going through West’s mind. But her death makes one marvel at the way in which popular culture pushes, pushes, pushes people toward an ideal. And then tut-tuts when they take the bait.

No matter that the most conscientious surgeons emphasize that cosmetic surgery cannot transform a patient’s life, the promise remains. With a snip and a tug, faces can be made younger and more attractive. The patients believe they will not only look better but also feel better, which will lead to greater confidence, which will strengthen their cultural currency.

Audiences like nothing more than a beauty makeover. The ugly duckling turns into a swan. Cinderella got a fairy godmother of a stylist and won the heart of the prince. It was beauty that charmed the beast — not the young woman with the scintillating personality.

But beauty makes folks envious. They want to be assured that others work hard to maintain their appearance (even if they’re looking for the easiest ways to maintain their own). Consider the notion of aging gracefully. What does that mean, really? Folks are demanding that the enduring beauty of matrons and dowagers be earned. They want them to maintain a six-day-a-week workout schedule that includes walking on a treadmill to nowhere and a life that is devoid of meat, dairy, alcohol, sunshine, sugar and anything else remotely pleasurable. Is that natural? Is that grace?

There are virtually no women who have the genetic good fortune to arrive at age 60 looking like a Catherine Deneuve, Sophia Loren or Diahann Carroll without a surgeon’s expertise. Most people in the public sphere do something, Botox to boot camp, to fend off the effects of time. They are encouraged and expected to take action. If they don’t, they will be judged harshly. But they must take care not to let the effort show — don’t reveal any hairline scars or improbable perkiness. Otherwise, our judgment will be even harsher.”