The TSA is Killing People

Okay, that's not exactly true...

But the TSA, with its new restrictions on travel, is causing more people to die.

This topic came up the other night during a seminar with my Economics advisor and a few other students. We were discussing the new TSA restrictions requiring either pat downs or scans before flights.  There was a lot of debate on invasion of privacy versus the necessity of security, and the conversation had bogged down into an ideological stalemate.

That's when my professor piped up and said, "There's an Introductory Economics reason for why the new restrictions are a bad idea. Can anyone tell me what it is?"

After a few half-hearted attempts, one of the girls in the group asked, "Is it because it increases the marginal cost of flying?"
"That's half of it," our professor encouraged.

An awkward silence fell.  Then one of the boys said excitedly, "It increases the number of cars on the road!"
"Exactly!"

Far more people die from car accidents per 100,000 people driving (it averages about 20 per year) than the number of people who die from planes per 100,000 people flying including all crashes, terrorist attacks, and random heart attacks from joining the mile high club (it's less than .1). That's 200 times the fatality rate.  So,  if the increased cost of being patted down or scanned encouraged 1 million more people each year to drive somewhere instead of flying, an additional 199 people would die.

Sure, the increased security may make it more difficult for terrorists to hijack or bomb planes, but considering the number of people who are killed on airlines by terrorists and the number of people who die in car accidents, it's not worth the lives of 200 people just to save 1.  And that's how the TSA is killing people.

Paradox of Freedom

Ask nearly anyone and they'll tell you that more choices are better.

The more options you have, the more likely that the decision you make will match all of your preferences and be the optimal choice.

But that's not exactly true...

Imagine buying a car. If you're a consumer in, say 1912, there's really only one choice: the Model-T Ford.  So, the decision is easy.  You buy the car, and it's the best possible outcome.

Now imagine buying one today.  There are dozens of options.  After a few weeks of careful consideration and test driving, you find the perfect car: well priced, good gas mileage, looks nice, etc.

You buy it, you drive it off the lot, and get it home, and as you're admiring it in the driveway, you look over to your neighbors, the Joneses, and see that they have also bought a new car, and that Mr. Jones is likewise admiring his new car.

A brief conversation later, and you discover that not only did Mr. Jones buy a better car than you, but he got it for the same price.

As the buyer's remorse hits you, you realize that you did not make the best possible choice, but hey, no biggie, you still have a car that you like, right?  And it sure is better than if your only available choice was the Toyota Camry (unless the car you bought was the Toyota Camry, in which case it is better than if your only available choice was the Ford F-150).

But let's say you're buying a car in a possible future fifty years from now. In this fantastical future, there no longer are car brands or standard vehicles. Instead, every single option is customizable, from the seats to the color to the layout on the inside to the way the body looks, you have never been more free.

You spend three months designing your perfect car on your computer, clicking and dragging everything you could possibly, getting rid of all the unnecessary accoutrements, like seat belts or the windshield, and the morning after you finalize your design, your dream car is delivered to your driveway. NICE.

You get in, begin the drive to work, and as you spill your piping hot morning cup of joe all over your shirt, you reflect on the fact that you had forgotten to include cup holders in your design.

Now, at this point, practically any car with cup holders and that could still drive would have been better. Not only has having unlimited freedom result in you choosing a car you don't particularly like, but it has resulted in you choosing a car that's even worse than the car you would have chosen if you had fewer options.

And here's what worse: you wasted all that time designing that car. In economic terms, think of the cost of the car in both time and money.  Even if you had designed a car that was slightly better for you and slightly less expensive than a Camry, the Camry still would have been a better choice because it only took a week for you to choose the Camry and took months to design the other car.  The increased opportunity cost of designing your own car outweighs the slight benefit of having a slightly better car.  The irony is that having too much free choice can easily result in a less optimal situation.