Let me be real clear about seat belts. The farthest I have driven in the past 35 years without buckling up is halfway around our block, when I was cleaning my old Blazer one afternoon. The cab had so much junk inside that it was more convenient to park next to the trash can in the alley rather than tote the refuse across the yard. I felt guilty for the entire minute of beltless 5-mph driving, although I must confess enjoying the small frisson that comes with risky behavior.
Otherwise, I’ve worn my belt always. However, I can think of only one time that a belt saved me. That came in 1970 when I was driving way too fast across South Dakota with a load of in-laws. The car encountered a slick spot on the highway – it appeared to be some cow manure that might have fallen off a truck earlier that day – and I spun out. The seat belt kept me behind the wheel so I could do something about the spin. Otherwise I’d have been thrown across the bench seat, and the consequences could have been dire, since the steering wheel and brake would have been out of my reach.
So I wear my seat belt. I do not find it uncomfortable or constricting. I encourage others to do so, and if I’m driving, the car doesn’t move until everyone is buckled.
It is not a decision that affects only the driver or passenger. As my long-ago spin-out taught me, if there are people sliding all over a spinning car, the driver may not be able to regain control – and that means some beltless driver could come careening into you on some slick road. The libertarian argument that it’s entirely a personal decision that affects only the person making the decision doesn’t hold up.
But with that said, I’m still dubious about the proposed change in our state law. As it is, not wearing a seat belt is a secondary offense. A peace officer cannot pull you over just for not buckling your seat belt, but if he pulls you over for something else, and observes that you’re not wearing a seat belt, he can cite you for that, too.
If “failure to wear a seat belt” became a primary offense, then you could be pulled over and cited for that alone. And at the statehouse last week, there was tearful testimony in support of that change, along with an arrangement of 282 pairs of shoes on the west steps of the Capitol – one pair for every person killed in a Colorado traffic accident in 2004 who was not wearing a seat belt.
The testimony came from a Delta woman whose teenaged daughter, who was not wearing a seat belt, died when her car rolled over and ejected her last November.
Losing a child has to be one of the most horrible things that can happen, but just how would a primary seat-belt law have prevented this tragedy? We would have to presume that at some point before the rollover, the young woman would have been pulled over and cited for failure to wear her seat belt, and then she would have decided to wear her belt henceforth.
That’s improbable. And if a mother cannot instill seat-belt use in her own daughter, how can the state, especially when there’s already a law on the books?
Another problem is enforcement. I asked a retired State Patrol major about this. He said that it’s not that hard to tell if someone is wearing a shoulder belt if you’re going east on a two-lane road at less than 50 mph and the motorist in question is going west. But on freeways at higher speeds, the trooper has too much else to watch to be very attentive to seat-belt use.
So enforcement would be sporadic. Sure, some people would be pulled over for not wearing their seat belts. But would there be enough to make a meaningful difference? In other words, of those 282 people who died in 2004 who were not wearing seat belts, how many would have been pulled over for not wearing seat belts, then decided to change their ways, and then were involved in an accident where seat belts would have made a difference? Seat belts greatly improve your odds of survival, but they don’t guarantee you’ll live through an accident.
All those empty shoes were a powerful statement. But it was an emotional statement. And that’s all that changing the seat-belt law would be – a statement, rather than a measure that would actually make our roads safer.
Ed Quillen of Salida is a former newspaper editor whose column appears Tuesday and Sunday.
