delays, stress, incivility, and rising insurance premiums.”
Inspired by the HOW’S MY DRIVING stickers used by commercial fleets, the idea is that drivers, when witnessing an act of dangerous or illegal driving, could phone a call center and lodge a complaint, using mandatory identification numbers posted on every driver’s bumper or license plate. Calls could also be made to reward good drivers. An account would be kept and, at the end of each month, drivers would receive a “bill” tallying the positive or negative comments called in. Drivers exceeding a certain threshold could be punished in some way, such as by higher insurance premiums or a suspension of their license. Strahilevitz argues that this system would be more effective than sporadic law enforcement, which can monitor only a fraction of the traffic stream. The police are usually limited to issuing tickets based on obvious violations (like speeding) and are essentially powerless to do anything about the more subtle rude and dangerous moments we encounter—how often have you wished in vain for a police car to be there to catch someone doing something dangerous, like tailgating or texting on their BlackBerry? It would help insurance companies more effectively set rates, not to mention giving frustrated drivers a safer and more useful outlet to express their disapproval, and gain a sense of justice—than by responding in kind with acts of aggressive driving.
But what about false or biased feedback? What if your next-door neighbor who’s mad at you for your barking dog phones in a report saying you were acting crazy on the turnpike? As Strahilevitz points out, eBay-style software can sniff out suspicious activity—“outliers” like one negative comment among many positives, or repeated negative comments from the same person. What about privacy concerns? Well, that’s exactly the point: People are free to terrorize others on the road because their identity is largely protected. The road is not a private place, and speeding is not a private act. As Strahilevitz argues, “We should protect privacy if, and only if, doing so promotes social welfare.”
Less ambitious and official versions of this have been tried. The Web site Platewire.com , which was begun, in the words of its founder, “to make people more accountable for their actions on the roadways in one forum or another,” gives drivers a place to lodge complaints about bad drivers, along with the offenders’ license plate numbers; posts chastise “Too Busy Brushing Her Hair” in California and “Audi A-hole” in New Jersey. Much less frequently, users give kudos to good drivers.
However noble the effort, the shortcomings of such sites are obvious. For one, Platewire, at the time of this writing, has a bit over sixty thousand members, representing only a minuscule fraction of the driving public. Platewire complaints are falling on few ears. For another, given the sheer randomness of driving, the chances are remote that I would ever come across the owner of New Jersey license plate VR347N—more remote even than the chance that they’re reading this book—and, moreover, I’m unlikely to remember that they were the one a Platewire member had tagged for “reading the newspaper” while driving! Lastly, Platewire lacks real consequences beyond the anonymous shame of a small, disparate number of readers.
The call-center idea is aimed at countering the feeling of pervasive anonymity in traffic, and all the bad behavior it encourages. But it could also help correct another problem in traffic: the lack of feedback. As discussed earlier, the very mechanics of driving enable us to play spectator to countless acts of subpar driving, while being less aware of our own. Not surprisingly, if we were to ask ourselves “How’s my driving?,” research has shown that the answer would probably be a big thumbs-up—regardless of one’s actual driving record.
In study after study, from the United States
Inspired by the HOW’S MY DRIVING stickers used by commercial fleets, the idea is that drivers, when witnessing an act of dangerous or illegal driving, could phone a call center and lodge a complaint, using mandatory identification numbers posted on every driver’s bumper or license plate. Calls could also be made to reward good drivers. An account would be kept and, at the end of each month, drivers would receive a “bill” tallying the positive or negative comments called in. Drivers exceeding a certain threshold could be punished in some way, such as by higher insurance premiums or a suspension of their license. Strahilevitz argues that this system would be more effective than sporadic law enforcement, which can monitor only a fraction of the traffic stream. The police are usually limited to issuing tickets based on obvious violations (like speeding) and are essentially powerless to do anything about the more subtle rude and dangerous moments we encounter—how often have you wished in vain for a police car to be there to catch someone doing something dangerous, like tailgating or texting on their BlackBerry? It would help insurance companies more effectively set rates, not to mention giving frustrated drivers a safer and more useful outlet to express their disapproval, and gain a sense of justice—than by responding in kind with acts of aggressive driving.
But what about false or biased feedback? What if your next-door neighbor who’s mad at you for your barking dog phones in a report saying you were acting crazy on the turnpike? As Strahilevitz points out, eBay-style software can sniff out suspicious activity—“outliers” like one negative comment among many positives, or repeated negative comments from the same person. What about privacy concerns? Well, that’s exactly the point: People are free to terrorize others on the road because their identity is largely protected. The road is not a private place, and speeding is not a private act. As Strahilevitz argues, “We should protect privacy if, and only if, doing so promotes social welfare.”
Less ambitious and official versions of this have been tried. The Web site Platewire.com , which was begun, in the words of its founder, “to make people more accountable for their actions on the roadways in one forum or another,” gives drivers a place to lodge complaints about bad drivers, along with the offenders’ license plate numbers; posts chastise “Too Busy Brushing Her Hair” in California and “Audi A-hole” in New Jersey. Much less frequently, users give kudos to good drivers.
However noble the effort, the shortcomings of such sites are obvious. For one, Platewire, at the time of this writing, has a bit over sixty thousand members, representing only a minuscule fraction of the driving public. Platewire complaints are falling on few ears. For another, given the sheer randomness of driving, the chances are remote that I would ever come across the owner of New Jersey license plate VR347N—more remote even than the chance that they’re reading this book—and, moreover, I’m unlikely to remember that they were the one a Platewire member had tagged for “reading the newspaper” while driving! Lastly, Platewire lacks real consequences beyond the anonymous shame of a small, disparate number of readers.
The call-center idea is aimed at countering the feeling of pervasive anonymity in traffic, and all the bad behavior it encourages. But it could also help correct another problem in traffic: the lack of feedback. As discussed earlier, the very mechanics of driving enable us to play spectator to countless acts of subpar driving, while being less aware of our own. Not surprisingly, if we were to ask ourselves “How’s my driving?,” research has shown that the answer would probably be a big thumbs-up—regardless of one’s actual driving record.
In study after study, from the United States
Similar Books
