In case you missed it, in 1972, the federal government declared you an idiot. That was the year Congress passed the Consumer Product Safety Act, explaining that “the complexities of consumer products, and the diverse nature and abilities of consumers using them, frequently result in an inability of users to anticipate risks and to safeguard themselves adequately.”
Items most people consider dangerous — weapons, vehicles, drugs, etc. — already were regulated by other agencies. The Consumer Product Safety Commission (CPSC)was created on the assumption that ordinary items could be lethal to Americans unable “to anticipate risks.”
Certainly, no one can accuse the CPSC of such a deficiency: It most commonly anticipates risks in products with 100 percent safety records. Contrary to the public’s perception, most recalls forced by the CPSC are not the result of a defective product causing death or injury, but an overwrought bureaucrat able to imagine how someday, somehow, they might.
Consider the recent recalls of almost 9 million toys. No injuries were reported from any of the products involved, according to acting CPSC Chairman Nancy Nord. Some were recalled because they had magnets that might become loose, and if a child ate two in succession, the magnets could attract internally, pinching the intestines. Social Darwinism would perhaps argue against heroic efforts in such cases.
The other recalled toys contained lead-based paint, but keep in mind that lead “poisoning” is a political construct. The Centers for Disease Control now defines lead poisoning in children as a level above 10 micrograms per milliliter. In 1990, that amount qualified only as a “level of concern.”
Three decades ago — before lead was banned from house paint and gasoline — lead concentrations as high as 80 mcg/ml were considered safe. That didn’t produce a generation of cretins.
Given that today’s Americans have an average lead concentration of only 2.3 mcg/ml, a child could eat his entire Thomas the Train set and not approach the lead levels his parents had as healthy children.
Yet lead paint is at least a documented danger. The CPSC’s other recent recalls have been to prevent such imagined disasters as:
» Circular saws operating without the safety lock-out (no injuries reported).
» External paint igniting on painted candles (no injuries reported).
» Lounge chairs collapsing (seven incidents and one injury reported from the 24,500 in circulation). And it doesn’t matter whether the collapses were caused by people too heavy to sit in such chairs: The CPSC calculates injuries and deaths as consumer product-related. So if an individual is electrocuted by sticking a fork in the toaster, that qualifies as a product-related death.
» Sandal clogs with a leather ankle strap that “can tear or separate from the clog sole, posing a fall hazard” (no incidents or injuries reported).
» Golf carts with steering gear assembly that can fail (no incidents or injuries reported).
Handles break, containers crack; this is a random universe. By trying to eliminate all risks — no matter how remote — the CPSC defies its originating law, which directs it to “protect the public against unreasonable risks of injuries and deaths associated with consumer products.” When products have been bought and used without incident, they hardly qualify as unreasonable risks.
Employing 420 imagineers to staff the CPSC costs taxpayers $62 million a year. Yet by its own admission, the CPSC does very little that isn’t already accomplished by other agencies. Its goal of reducing fire hazards is achieved by the American Gas Association, building code groups, the National Association of State Fire Marshals, the National Fire Protection Association, the National Smoke Detector Project and the U.S. Fire Administration, among others.
In trying to prevent carbon monoxide poisoning, the CPSC duplicates the efforts of the American Gas Association, the Consumer Federation of America, the Gas Appliance Manufacturers Association, the Gas Research Institute, the Gas Detection Industry Association and many others.
As for the CPSC’s goal of preventing electrocution, what could the agency do that is not already being done by the Underwriters Laboratories (UL)?
Obviously, it wouldn’t require 420 people to collect reports of truly hazardous consumer products and alert the public to such dangers. By manufacturing crises where none exists, the CPSC protects primarily its own bloated interests. If only the manufacturers it capriciously deprives of profits could protect themselves so easily.
Examiner Columnist Melanie Scarborough lives in Alexandria.
