Since learning of Whitney Houston’s death this weekend, I have read many comments and seen many photo montages by people who have questioned why one famous singer’s death should arouse more emotion than those dying in Syria and in Africa every day.

I think the crux of the matter is that the sheer numbers of global tragedies are often too much for our brains to process. When I see photos of starving children such as above I feel helpless and hopeless. My heart breaks to see them, and yet I know there is little I can do other than donate something to charity. Big deal. It is a drop in the ocean, and it will not solve the problems which are rooted far deeper than merely throwing money at the “problem”.  Decades after Bob Geldoff and Band Aid, all the funds which have been channelled to Third World countries have hardly made a dent either.

Similarly, the violence taking place at this very moment in Syria cannot be stopped by anything you or I can do. We can express outrage, click “likes” on Facebook pages demanding for the violence to stop…and then what? We are powerless.

But when a famous person such as Whitney Houston dies we are indescribably shocked (although in her case, such as with Amy Winehouse, I was half-expecting it).  It shocks us because these entertainers who have been blessed with the gift of such talent seem not to have appreciated just how lucky they were.  It shocks us because they have taken their own potential and promise and carelessly thrown it away. It shocks us precisely because they have everything to be grateful for (unlike those dying of starvation) and yet they seem not to have been aware of their own good fortune.

It is life’s paradox that after years of struggle to “make it” these stars reach the pinnacle of their success only to squander it in self-destructive behaviour, almost not allowing themselves the luxury of enjoying what they have worked so hard for; almost punishing themselves for “having it all”.

Of course, the drug and alcohol abuse which ultimately led to the deaths of both Amy  Winehouse and Whitney Houston did not happen in a vaccum. In both cases, they crossed paths with the wrong men who introduced them to substance abuse and were abusive, and these women (for all their apparent self-confidence) did not have the strength of character to break off these toxic relationships.  And while Whitney did leave Bobby eventually, her addiction to cocaine had taken over her life, ravaging her once beautiful looks and reducing her to a parody of herself, unable to remember her lines, and cancelling her appearances. Amy Winehouse had a similar downward spiral.  Such is the tragedy of many women whose sense of self-worth is eroded and demolished by men who, rather than supporting them, do everything they can to tear them down.  It is only once in a while that you find a fiercely strong woman like Tina Turner who not only got away from her abusive husband Ike, but has had a rich, fulfilling career well into her 60s.

So yes, when I look at photos of the early Whitney, fresh-faced and with her whole future in front of her, I do think of her death as a terrible tragedy. Her hit songs over the years  remind me of various points in my life; it is a connection which many of us feel when one of our favourite singers/actresses dies before their time.  Feeling sorrow at her death does not diminish the tragedy of thousands dying elsewhere.

But it is a tragedy just the same.

So here’s a video of Whitney Houston from happier times. Where were you when this song came out in 1987?