“Did you hear about the guy who jumped into the tiger’s cage?”

“Nope. When did that happen?” I replied.

“Recently. Literally today.”

“Flip me. What happened?”

“The tiger attacked him and killed him.”

At this point my brain was going how, what, why. “That’s mental. Why would someone do that? That’s awful!” That, more or less, was the conversation I had with a friend. Then I read the news on the BBC and thought exactly the same thing. What on earth would possess someone to do that?

For anyone who hasn’t seen the story, it happened at Yorkshire Wildlife Park near Doncaster on Saturday 10 October, when a man climbed into the tiger enclosure and died. You can read what we know so far from the BBC and ITV News. Police have asked people not to share the footage, and I haven’t seen it.

Looking back, that reaction came from an assumption I didn’t even realise I was making. In my head I had just assumed this person was neurotypical, a regular average person like me, so the only question I asked was why someone would do this. What I never asked was who this person actually was.

I should be clear that I don’t know. Beyond the fact that he was reported to be in his 20s and was visiting the park on his own, nothing official has been said about him. But some people online are suggesting he may have been using Makaton sign language, and that he may not have seen the situation the way I would. I can’t confirm that, and I don’t want to pretend I can. But the thought stopped me anyway. Because if it’s even possible, then my “why would someone do that?” came from nothing but my own bias.

If it is true, this person started life with challenges I could never fully comprehend. And that makes the whole thing even sadder.

Either way, there are bigger questions. A park can only do so much, and the support someone needs doesn’t start at the gate. It starts at home, in the community, and in the everyday places that are supposed to look out for people who see the world differently. I don’t know what support he did or didn’t have, and I’m not pointing a finger at anyone, least of all his family, who are dealing with something unimaginable. But I do wonder what we all could be doing better, from how parks and public places are designed for people who sit in very different boxes, to how we look out for the most vulnerable before they ever get near a situation like this. I could go on. But I think the fundamental problem is exactly how I tackled the subject. I thought about it from my bias, and not from someone else’s point of view.

My daughter would probably just wander up to a big cat and try to pet it. It’s only my life experience that tells me that’s not the best approach, and that telling a big kitty how good he is won’t win you any awards. But if someone doesn’t have that same understanding, why wouldn’t they try it? Right up until it’s too late.

At the end of the day, though, someone has lost their life. Someone has lost a son, and possibly a brother, and a whole family now has to live with that. Whatever I think, or any of us think, the loss and the tragedy is what truly matters.

I do hope there’s something we can learn from it and do better. For me, next time I hear a story like this, it won’t just be why, it will be who. And I’ll really think before I judge.

My heart goes out to his family.