A notice posted at my younger son Joe’s pre-school last week
announced, “We need car seats for every child being driven to
school outings. New Jersey now requires car seats for all children
under 80 pounds.”
Indeed it does. Last September, acting governor Donald
DiFrancesco signed a bill “making New Jersey’s child passenger
protection laws (the) strongest in the nation,” as his press
release trumpeted. The release explained that “Starting in
December, children who are under the age of eight and weigh less
than 80 pounds will be required to be secured in a child passenger
restraint system or booster seat in the rear seat of a motor
vehicle.”
The acting gov’s pro-forma piece of righteous fluff (you always
put a quote, no matter how phony, in a press release) proclaimed
that the law “provides no exemptions and no exceptions. When it
comes to our children’s safety, there are no excuses.”
At least the law says “and” between the two designations for age
and weight. If it said “or,” I’d have to put my friend Abigail
Thernstrom in a safety seat. Somehow, I don’t think she’d like
it.
Kids hate car seats. Can anyone say “Ransom of Red Chief”? The
car-seat law joins several other pieces of New Jersey idiocy
related to automobiles, including a set of insurance regulations so
onerous that Geico and Quotesmith.com won’t do business here (we
join Massachusetts in that distinction), and an auto inspection
regime so cranky that any halfway friendly auto mechanic will tell
you, “I know a place in Elizabeth…It’ll cost about
$200…” And you know what he means.
But that “and” is also problematic, the best illustration of
what’s wrong with this latest invitation to scofflawry. What
specifically unsafe condition does it address? A child’s weight,
i.e., the child as object? Or a child’s maturity? My younger son,
Joe, an adoptee from Guatemala, stands 30 inches tall and weighs 28
pounds at age two and a half. He will not top 80 pounds till he
enters his teen years. And, in fact, standard tables of height and
weight for children show the 80-pound median falling at about age
10.
On the other end of the scale, when Bud was in first grade, he
had a porker of a classmate who topped 80 pounds then, at age six.
Who is safe, and who is not? An 80-pound pre-teen? Or an 85-pound
first-grade fatty?
Acting governor DiFrancesco’s announcement also touted the
giveaway of 5,000 car seats to low-income families. But New Jersey
has more low-income families than that, and they have more children
than that. Msn.com’s e-shop shows 33 booster seats, the term of art
for car seats with weight specifications of 80 pounds or more. Most
car seats are rated for 40-60 pounds top weight. Booster seats cost
between $60 and $120. E-shop also describes such seats as “rare” —
as well they should be, no other state in the union so far
requiring them. Put those costs together with inflated car prices
(the inspection regime) and high insurance rates, and you place a
huge local population either outside the law — or on foot.
Think of something else. Car seats are big, bulky items, made of
petroleum-based fibers and eternally non-biodegradable plastics.
How do you dispose of them? Nobody wants a used safety seat. Kids
eat and drink in them. Kids pee and poop and throw up on them. You
want to see something really disgusting, look at the latch
receptacles or the underside of a well-used car seat.
It’s safe to say that the car-seat law will be enforced
spottily, if at all. My wife, rushing around on typical suburban
errands a few weeks ago, got a speeding ticket from our
neighborhood cop. Bud was riding in the front seat (no airbags in
our cars; we drive oldies). Seven years old, 63 pounds. The officer
didn’t even mention it.
But the law will be ignored for better reasons than sheer
numskull impracticality. People know that the most effective car
safety device is the one between the driver’s ears. With this law,
government shows its default regard for citizens. We’re crash test
dummies.
