%20(1200%20x%20237%20px)%20(300%20x%2059%20px).webp)
A Silent But Visually Present Enemy
40,000.
40,000 people die annually thanks to this death trap.
40,000… let that number marinate for a minute.
Do you know how many people live in Twin Falls, Idaho?
About 40,000.
How about Manhattan, Kansas?
About 40,000.
How about Marion, Ohio?
If you said 40,000… you’d be wrong. It’s actually around 38,000.
See, this death trap wipes out roughly a small town… every year.
Every single year, that’s a town full of children, grandparents, mothers, fathers.
Now sit with me for a second. If there was something wiping out a small town every year, wouldn’t you want to stop it? Wouldn’t you want to invest in a cure for this killer? Wouldn’t you want to protect as many people as possible?
I would venture to say you would.
I would venture to say that if it was your son, daughter, father, mother, grandmother, or grandfather living in a town about to be wiped out, you would do anything and everything possible to stop it from happening.
I have good news for you, though.
All of these towns are fine. They will remain intact, and people living in them will continue with their lives as they always have. But the sad reality is that 40,000 people in our country… won’t.
So, who is this killer? Or better said, what?
You, reading this post right now, know it quite well.
Chances are you see it every day. I would even go as far as saying you see it every hour.
Some of you are so familiar with this trap that you’re not even aware it could come after you. But you, among 333 million other people in our country, consider it your friend. To some degree, we all do. This trap has deceived us so well that we spend roughly $300 billion every year to make sure it’s comfortable.
300 billion… with a B.
And if we could spend more, we would. Gladly.
This trap comes in different forms and colors… but it’s still a trap. It will still put our loved ones in danger. It will still put you in danger.
Every day that we hold on to this thing, we venture into the stream of possibility that could bring us closer to our last day on this planet. Or bring someone else to theirs.
I don’t mean to scare you… and yet I do.
This trap lives in your home, and you pay for it.
In fact, you spend about 20% of your income on it.
20%.
How much do you make a year?
Take 20% off of that… congratulations! That’s how much your trap costs.
If you haven’t figured it out by now, the trap I speak of is your car. That shiny object taking its prime seat on your driveway, or enjoying its lavish place in your garage.
That gleaming form of convenience that deceives you with the lie of freedom and independence, when all along you’re bound by a costly ticking bomb.
So many people have been victims of this trap—some you might even know. And it’s not only about whether people live or die. It’s also about people’s chances to walk again, talk again, drive again, live a normal life again.
2.6 million people have fought the car in one form or another.
2.6 million.
Some people walked away relatively unscathed… maybe with a bent ego here and there.
But some suffered—and continue to suffer.
So back to my earlier question: What would you do to stop this killer, this trap?
We spend $300 billion to create roads, expand roads, build parking lots, and remove nature for the sake of highways, all of this to glorify a speeding enemy.
When will we stop?
How can we stop?
We can start by investing in a cure.
The fact is, we’re addicted to our cars… our traps.
Stockholm Syndrome, anyone?
This thing isn’t going away. But we can still invest in alternatives that help us use cars less. That means fewer chances of adding to that 40,000-a-year statistic.
We could take some of that $300 billion spent on making cars comfortable and use it to make buses, trains, bikes, and walking comfortable.
We could design communities where the things we need—work, school, shopping—are closer to where we live, so we’re not forced to use the car.
Maybe we could just walk there. Or bike. Or maybe—just maybe—it’s easier to take a bus.
Maybe instead of jumping on a road trip to a city far away, where we’re forced onto scary-fast highways with posted speeds of 70 mph (already frightening) but where people actually drive 90 mph, we could use a train.
Currently a non-existent train mind you but a future train—equipped with Wi-Fi, comfortable seats, views you can enjoy since you’re not paying attention to the road.
No fears of hidden cops.
A place where you can actually read a book or get work done. OMG, the list just goes on.
Why not invest in this?
Maybe because we’re truly addicted to our cars. And like any addiction, it doesn’t matter how much personal damage—or damage to others—it creates… we’re still going to enjoy it. And like any addiction, it’s hell to get over.
But the first step to dealing with a problem is admitting we have a problem. Spoiler alert: we have a problem.