We could all use some undercoating
The one fatal conceit of our hyperintelligent, charismatic, Kryptonian chief executive is his conviction that no matter what problem needs to be solved, there’s an app for that. And by “app” we mean “government bureaucracy.”
Americans used to be the one cohort on the planet who could be trusted to distrust their government. Today, we expect that the same people who brought you the United States Postal Service and the Department of Education can do a 180° and be sleek and efficient with a) health care and b) the automotive industry.
To recap: for decades, America’s Big 3 Automakers (they were General Motors, Ford and Chrysler, if you happen to be reading this in 2030) played catchup to Japanese innovation. Furthermore, the Big 3 were so terrified of labor strife that they signed union contracts that were not merely generous, but suicidal. Handing the store over to the employees sounded eleemosynary in theory, but rather than give the United Auto Workers a fair share of a thriving corporation, management decided to negotiate away an even greater share of what turned out to be a rapidly dying concern.
Unions are loud, and in certain parts of the country (the most economically depressed ones, curiously enough), they draw sympathy. And while union members’ numbers are small in historic terms, they’re concentrated in a few highly visible industries – such as automobile manufacturing.
Plenty of American industries have lowered in scope and still remained viable – for example steel manufacturing, which consistently turns handsome profits despite no longer being the juggernaut it was in the 1930s. But couple today’s shortsighted public with a presidential agenda, and you get Carmaking: America’s Backbone, The Lifeblood Of Our Economy, The Industry That Must Be Propped Up At All Costs. Never mind that consumers are less interested in American cars now than ever, it’s up to all of us – even Toyota drivers and employees – to ensure that Detroit’s auto manufacturers still sell cars.
So the White House assumed a majority stake of General Motors. It transferred billions of dollars from ordinary taxpayers to the exclusive cabal of billionaires that owns privately-held Chrysler. And since good management is micromanagement, the federal government decided that our cumulative fleet needs to use less fuel. Because that’s far too complex a decision for tens of millions of gas-buying car owners to make themselves.
And so began the Cash For Clunkers program, via which Washington attempts to artificially stimulate demand by offering $3,500 or $4,500 taxpayer-funded vouchers for old vehicles. Those old vehicles are then destroyed, which won’t create any hazardous waste or impact any landfills or anything.
Theoretically, you qualify if you own a post-1984 car free and clear. The car must get <18.0000 mpg and, for some reason, have been insured without gaps for the last year. (None of this information is easily researchable at the program’s website. And for some reason, pre-1984 cars apparently emit an older, more benign type of carbon dioxide. At least we believe so – our engineering credentials pale compared to those of Congress.)
Other than the sound of galaxies colliding, there’s no greater cavalcade in the universe than one government agency grinding into another. The Environmental Protection Agency is the bureaucracy entrusted with determining those mileage numbers. In other words, if they deem that your car gets 17.9999 miles a gallon, but presumably should get 18.0001 miles a gallon, you’re out of luck. (Or, to put a positive spin on it, you get to drive its gas-guzzling carcass even longer!)
Right now you’re thinking, “This post is using exaggeration to make a point. The EPA obviously doesn’t calculate this stuff to 4 decimal places.”
You’d be wrong.
The EPA recently had to review its mileage ratings to comply with a Department of Transportation mandate, and ensure they’re accurate to within 1/10,000 of a mile per gallon. One ten-thousandth of a mile is 6.336 inches, which is probably a shorter distance than the width of the screen you’re reading this on. And as we all know, every time you fill your tank, you drive exactly the same distance that you did the previous time you filled it. (Well, not exactly. But certainly within 6.336 inches.)
In complying with the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration’s 136 pages of rules for the program, the EPA classified 86 models as eligible that weren’t before. 78 models went in the other direction. Your 1995 Saab 900S that gets 18.004 miles to the gallon – or more accurately, that the government says gets 18.004 miles to the gallon – doesn’t qualify as a “clunker”. However, that means that you’re now free to continue polluting with it, making us more dependent on foreign oil and probably raising global temperatures by 3.0 x 10-68 degrees or so. We hope you’re happy with yourself.
If you hate government waste and intervention, you might be slightly happier after ingesting this next point. If you hate a government that refuses to follow through on its promises, you’ll be infuriated. If you’re like us and hate both, you won’t know what to feel.
The voucher isn’t a simple rebate, it’s a substitute for whatever trade-in value a dealer would offer you. (Add “negotiation” to the list of activities the government thinks you’re too incompetent to handle on your own.) If you want to get rid of a car worth >$4,500, even one that gets 4.4857 miles a gallon, you should sell it yourself. That way someone else can drive it, raising global temperatures by yet another octillionth of a degree, you filthy polar bear killer.
It’s the trade-in equivalency of the voucher that’s the problem. The car salesman who would slice your genitalia for an extra $100 now knows that you’re thinking that you’re entering the dealership with a $4,500 advantage, and can thus grant him a little more wiggle room.
Nonsense. Things cost what they cost. If the dealer offers you a new car for $24,500, only a moron would think, “That’s really $20,000! Without this program I would have been lucky to have negotiated him down to $23,000. Now, I can’t possibly lose.”
Bullcrap. The dealer still walks away with the same profit, regardless of whether Cash for Clunkers exists. He’ll tell you otherwise. He’ll remind you up and down how “generous” (with your and our money) the program is. He’ll tell you that someone came in earlier today with a smaller voucher and looked at this exact same vehicle, so why wouldn’t you take advantage of the perfect setup that the cosmos, the government, and good fortune have collaborated to create?
Continue to negotiate as if Cash for Clunkers were just a foul thought in the president’s head. Never leave money on the table, even if you think you have an advantage. Remember – the car salesman is your adversary. Someone to be confronted, not to compromise with.
The weird thing is that people would never excuse such skulduggery when it concerns far cheaper items.
Say you buy a 75¢ USA Today at the 7-Eleven every morning. One day the clerk says, “That’ll be $2,” even though the price listed on page 1A states otherwise. Would you think, “Well, after yesterday’s golf bet I’ve got an extra $20 in my wallet. What the heck, I’ll give her the $2”?
Of course not. Your financial position should have nothing to do with what you’re negotiating. Always look at the transaction from the other person’s perspective. To wit, what’s she getting out of it? Is he screwing me? Can we reach a mutually acceptable price here?
The government has $1 billion worth of taxpayer-funded vouchers, good for about a quarter-million cars, which is a week’s worth of nationwide new vehicle sales. The program is supposed to last until November, at which point it’ll be OK for you to start destroying the environment with your inefficient old car again.
(Thanks to Joe White of The Wall Street Journal for inspiration.)
