An overdose of "warnings" puts our lives at risk
by David R.
Henderson
In the spring of 1982, when I was working in the Reagan administration, my
friend Harry came to visit. He had started learning how to use kayaks and
wanted to try out his skills on the Potomac River. I had never been in a kayak
in my life, but I was excited also. So we rented two kayaks, tried them out on
the placid C&O canal beside the Potomac and then decided that we were ready
for the river. I had driven over the Potomac every day on the way to work, and
it seemed like a calm enough river. How dangerous could it be?
When we walked
down to the shoreline, we saw a big official sign that said, "WARNING:
DANGEROUS CANOE PUT-IN."
"Yeah,
right," we thought. “There goes government crying wolf again.”
Wrong. Within 50
yards of where we put in our kayaks, we were using all of our strength to
navigate down a very rough river with substantial rapids. Within two minutes, I
was worn out and was running on adrenaline. When I finally I got to my first
bit of calm water, I relaxed slightly—and immediately tipped over. I was upside
down and stuck in the kayak. I forgot what I had just learned about pulling the
rope that held the “skirt” in place. I kept yanking my body for what seemed an
eternity—and was probably less than ten seconds.
Finally, I yanked
so hard that my body was released from the kayak. When my head got above water,
I held on to the kayak—but saw that I was heading for the next big set of
rapids. Fortunately, a seasoned kayaker appeared out of nowhere, told me to
hold on to the strap on his kayak, and towed me to shore. I was lucky.
What had gone
wrong? We had mistakenly dismissed the government’s warning. But why had we
done so? Because the government so often cries wolf. The government warns us
about many risks, large and small, and rarely gives any idea of the size of
those risks. We have a kind of “warning pollution.” In economics, there’s
something known as Gresham’s Law, which says, “Bad currency drives out good
currency.” With respect to warnings, there’s a similar law, and since I’m
identifying it, I’ll name it Henderson’s Law of Warnings: “Trivial warnings
drown out serious warnings.”
The kayak incident
happened 31 years ago, and, even then, I had become used to the government
crying wolf. Since then, the warnings about trivial risks have increased
substantially. In California, where I live, Proposition 65, passed by the
voters in 1986, requires sellers to put warning labels on goods that contain
chemicals that can cause cancer, birth defects, or other reproductive harm.
Many products sold in California carry labels warning of this harm, even if the
risk is tiny. Supermarkets post generic “Proposition 65 Warnings.” These
warnings, generally at the entrance to a store, tell customers that the store
contains goods that may cause cancer, birth defects, or other reproductive
harm. Gee, that’s helpful. I’ve lived in California all the years since that
1986 law was passed and I, like virtually all Californians, have learned to
tune out those Proposition 65 warnings.