'Crocodile Hunter' death brings unscripted danger into sharp relief

Though the risk was undeniable and very real, Irwin's animal encounters were engineered with camera and audience in mind – even his controversial decision to clutch infant son Bob, as a sort of costar, with his left hand as he fed a croc with his right. For the sake of electrifying television, Irwin always appeared more daring and more cavalier than he actually was; he made handling wildlife look both more dangerous and more casual.

Few viewers are knowledgeable about snake handling. So it's shocking to see Irwin lurching for the tail of a deadly tiger snake. With relatively weak bodies that make it difficult for them to snap when held this way, it's actually the preferred method for capture. Still, no herpetologist would then dangle a tiger snake in front of his face – but that added flourish is what makes for great television. And Irwin wore his many scars from these antics like a badge of honor.

Off camera, "biologists are boring," says Sam Sweet, a herpetologist at the University of California, Santa Barbara, who has been traveling to Australia's Kakadu National Park to study monitor lizards since 1988. "We don't have Steve Irwin moments."

Personality-driven nature documentaries date back to the 1950s, well before Irwin made his debut. There were the likes of Jacques Cousteau; David Attenborough; and Marlin Perkins and Jim Fowler, the safari-shirt-clad hosts of "Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom" – recently given new life on Animal Planet, the network that first introduced Irwin to American audiences in 1996.

Irwin reinvented the form. He interacted with animals with a hyperbolic zeal unmatched by any host who came before him. His enthusiasm was contagious, and it endeared him to millions.

When he appeared as himself in the 2002 movie "The Crocodile Hunter: Collision Course," Irwin further muddied the line between cinematic fiction and real life, becoming even more an immortal movie character, rather than the vulnerable naturalist he in fact was.

But it was this crossover from natural history to popular culture that captured a broader audience for wildlife programming. "Natural history film had always been on the fringes," says Jeff Corwin, host of "The Jeff Corwin Experience" on Animal Planet. Now, thanks in no small part to Irwin's inimitable style, "it's become mainstream."

Because it was a freak accident, the shock of Irwin's death ran deeper than it might have otherwise. In the water on the Great Barrier Reef, he died at the tail of a stingray, not by the jaws of one of the more overtly terrifying and deadly creatures he regularly faced-off with in the Outback.

The less threatening, though still tragic, circumstances further underscore how perilous his job as crocodile hunter was. "The proof of the danger, unfortunately, is in his own demise," says Professor Thompson.

• Christina Couch contributed to this report.

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