Let's Just Legalize Cockfighting

A few centuries ago, gladiators in the Coliseum at Rome would fight each other or lions. It wasn’t tame entertainment: someone often got killed. Today our coliseums house “sporting” events that are marketed as life and death struggles, but it just isn’t the same. We get a momentary thrill when we see a player dragged off the field with an injury, but hey, they’re still alive, aren’t they?

So where can a discerning public go to satisfy its taste for blood? The answer that comes immediately to mind is the legal system. Lawyers are our gladiators, always eager to jump into the ring and fight to the death (well, at least someone else’s death). Would the OJ Simpson trial have been such a public spectacle without the potential for death or life imprisonment verdict, or if it hadn’t been a murder trial?

To keep the public’s attention, there has to be a victor and a vanquished. If the contestants aren’t locked in mortal combat, what good are they?

Always trying to please, the American political system has figured this out. In debates on policy issues, each side grossly exaggerates the differences, feeding us, for example, images of helpless old people yanked off their life support or a bloated bureaucracy spending us into oblivion. The television sound bite makes a great blunt instrument, reducing deep and careful thought to a single whack on the head. Do you propose to reduce the rate of increase in my pet program? Bam—I AM OUTRAGED BY THE DEEP CUTS!... Is your proposal still alive? Wham—I’ll attack your character!

The joust reaches its highest form in political campaigns. The process of choosing an elected representative is transformed into a no-holds-barred, winner-take-all struggle. If elected, the contestant is subjected to constant public ridicule, in a job where it is next to impossible to get anything done—and they call this “winning.” Even the word “campaign” comes from the French term for “battlefield.”

We say we don’t like to see politicians throwing dirt at each other, but they keep doing it for the simple reason that it works. The thrust and parry of a hot election makes good headlines. We may deny that we like car races because of the possibility of a spectacular crash, but this is like the guy who says he reads Playboy for the articles. Issues and philosophy and vision don’t captivate our attention like the unfortunate candidate going down to flaming defeat.

Which brings me to my proposal. If we have such a strong drive to treat carnage and destruction as a spectator sport, why not pick an arena that has less far-reaching consequences? Cockfighting is banned in most places (as far as I know), because we are too civilized to go in for this sort of thing, but let’s not kid ourselves. As a species, we have never been too civilized for this, and having a few roosters fight it out to the death is surely preferable to the mayhem that we create when we put elected representatives in this role.

It may be too hard to undo decades of treating government like a game, so perhaps we could ease into this new model by electing the roosters that will fight for our cities, states, and country. The roosters could be organized in teams, which we could call “parties.” To add interest, we could even invent some “campaign finance reforms” and watch corporate sponsors come up with new and creative ways around them.

With a little luck, this would satisfy our need to watch death matches. We would read about our roosters on the front page and the op-ed pages, and the news of our government would be covered by the same sober reporting as is now done for scientific research and personal finance planning. Our peers would agree to represent us out of a sense of duty, and we would respect them for it in the same way that we appreciate those who serve as church ushers or Cub Scout den mothers. The business of governing would be done in a careful, thoughtful way in an atmosphere of reason and understanding, with the humility that comes from knowing that this is a practical, but inferior, alternative to the unattainable ideal of a benevolent dictatorship.

But if this doesn’t work, elect me president and I promise you that I will increase the programs you like, cut your taxes, and balance the budget. My opponent sucks eggs.

Speed Limits: One Size Fits All

Over cappuccinos, My friend Vanessa told me she thought speed limits were a stupid and outdated idea.
"Easy for you to say," I told her. "You drive a Porsche."
"Yeah, but until two years ago, all I drove were minivans. I felt that way then."
"So you think people should be able to drive as fast as they want?"
"Nope."
"Well, what then?"
"Here's the thing," she said. "I drive Highway XX almost every day. The posted one-size-fits-all speed limit is 55. But when I'm in my Carrera on a clear day with a dry road, and I'm alert and paying attention, I can safely go at least 70. On the other hand, if it's dark and raining and I'm driving the Caravan and the kids are fighting in the back seat, something under 50 is probably the safe limit. The posted speed is, frankly, irrelevant to safety."
"So what happens if someone drives too fast, and causes a crash?"
"Well, reckless driving is still illegal. Crash investigators can tell if speed is a factor. Don't get me wrong--I'm not arguing that people shouldn't be accountable for their driving behavior."
"So the speed limit should just be a suggestion?"
"Yeah. Matter of fact, I find the yellow advisory speed signs much more useful. When I see one that says 25, I slow down, even in the Carrera. Of course, when I'm in it and paying attention, I can add 20mph to the warning speed. In the minivan, not as much. But we have the technology now to replace speed limits with something better."
"Like what?"
"Cars that nag. The new cars are already smart enough to know when we're too close to the car in front, or when we're weaving out of our lane. The car certainly knows its own capability, and it can monitor the driver's behavior, too. When the driver is going too fast for the vehicle and road conditions, it can flash a warning. Record it to a black box, too, in case there's a crash."
"Hmm. How will it know if you're busy texting or putting on makeup?"
"Simple. Just add a camera that faces the driver."
"And you would take that trade-off? A nagging car versus an arbitrary speed limit?"
"Sure. If you think about it, speed limits are a crazy idea. Even the traffic engineers admit they set them based on the speed that 85% of the drivers go anyway. Who's to say the other 15% are driving too fast to be safe?"
I sipped my drink and thought about it.
"I don't know" I said.
"Well, if you think speed limits make so much sense," she said, "why isn't there a law that all shoes should be sold in only one size? It would make shoes much cheaper, and save a lot of shelf space in stores."
"You've got a point there," I said.
"Yeah, and in Montana all the shoes would be size 14, and in Oregon, they would all be size 8."