I was a freshman in college at the University of Miami and lived in Pearson Hall. One afternoon, I came back from classes to find a note left by Guy, my suitemate. It read that someone broke into my car, a 1966 Mustang, and I should contact campus security. They broke my small triangular window and took my stereo and battery; the latter was especially petty. My family got a new battery and drove it down; I got a replacement window from a second hand shop; I didn’t replace the stereo.
We were poor. I could barely afford to go to school; I was on the 8 meals per week plan, the required minimum. My family realized that we’d have to find some way to pay for all the semesters, because at that time we didn’t have those funds. Getting the stereo replaced was a trivial luxury, so for a while it was just an empty hole in my dashboard mocking me whenever I drove the car.
I learned to work on my car
Early on I befriended Ted who taught me how to repair my car. I consequently bought a shop manual, and he showed me how to conduct some of my own repairs. This was another way to manage my expenses; I should fix my own issues. In many ways he became my big brother; we remain friends even decades later.
It took me some time to replace that stereo, but it wasn’t my next investment in the car. Once I got enough funds, I had an alarm installed on my car. I wasn’t about to allow the next person to break into my car undeterred. It took me months, if not years, to save enough money to get it. After that, I finally got a stereo. It was a second hand Alpine unit which Ted helped me install. Finally, I had tunes in my car.
And then I didn’t need to work on my car
Since I graduated, spending a few hundred dollars on an alarm became a trivial expense. Consequently, I installed alarms on literally every car I have owned since. It may be baggage from my days in Miami, but to me is just part of keeping a car. A friend mocked me for getting one upon buying my 1969 Camaro, but his Pathfinder was burglarized weeks after and they did thousands in damage. I felt vindicated.
To me, it simply became part of the price of owning a car, much like buying fuel, tires, or regular oil changes. Naturally, you want your stuff protected. You want some level of deterrence from thieves; you want to avoid headaches like stolen stereos and broken windows. This makes sense; we can reason about this. Here’s what doesn’t make sense. Should your level of security be a function of your ability to pay? Or more subtly should your inability to pay mean that you should be without?
I’m not suggesting giving everyone anything they want
Before we wander into the label of ‘socialism’, allow me to elaborate. If you make more money, you should have access to fancier, faster cars. Want to go on a fancy vacation? Enjoy it! Similarly, you should be able to buy a more comfortable home. Are you eyeing that new gadget? You should enjoy fancier gadgets. I’m not suggesting that everyone should have access to those. Those are luxuries; what are necessities?
Let’s reflect on the elements of our lives for which we pay. Is it a necessity? How severely is our life impacted if we don’t have it? Are we really prepared to say that for those who don’t have access to it, they should simply live without it?
Let’s go back to that event in college with my car. I paid about $50 (in 1986) for an dorm parking permit. Should that not get me a certain level of assurances that my car will remain unharmed? Or simply being on campus? Should I have been able to make a claim for restitution? Need I pay hundreds of dollars to deter thieves from my car? Should security be a function of privilege? Those who can afford to pay get it, and those who can’t don’t get it.
Are we really all comfortable with that idea?
Difference between luxuries and necessities
If there’s anything that this coronavirus pandemic has illustrated, it’s the disparity in education and internet access. I naturally grew up without internet access, then got dial up, and progressively got more reliable and faster technology. Not everyone has that. It’s currently the only source of education for many children. The privilege disparity has always been there, but it is now crisply highlighted.
Two years ago, children without internet access would have to find other means to access certain parts of education. They consequently chose to stay late at school, go to a friend’s house, or find a public place with internet access like a library or Starbucks. Certainly, it’s a burden that they carried, masked by the embarrassment of poverty. They just found a way.
How many of our services have changed to online only availability? How much more difficult would it be to find a coronavirus vaccine appointment without internet access? If we move some essential services to being available strictly online, don’t we have a responsibility to get everyone internet access? Is this okay?
Is ‘safety and security’ a basic necessity?
I got into a discussion with a friend about a recent mass shooting. He made the case that the appropriate way to deal with these incidents is to get your own weapon and make sure that you’re protected. He has the right to carry and operate the firearm within the limits of the law; I have no issues with that. Much like my installing an alarm in my car; this sounds reasonable. However, the typical firearm costs a few hundred dollars; that doesn’t include training, maintenance, etc. This sum may be trivial to some, but for many people this is a lot of money. This may be rent for a month. That money may be food for a few weeks. This may be insulin for a diabetic. Are we telling people that they have a choice to make… food, shelter, health, or safety, Pick 3?
If we’ve made our peace with saying that the appropriate answer to mass shootings is for each of us to arm ourselves, we’re therefore also saying that those who can’t afford to arm themselves are not eligible to have safety and security… that we should all just get comfortable with the idea that they will have a higher mortality rate from mass shootings because they’re poorer and they don’t have the means. Your chances of surviving a mass shooting is correlated with your net worth? I’m not okay with that idea.
Should everyone have access to health care that affects their survival?
I remember years ago when Magic Johnson was diagnosed with HIV; it was 1991. In 1991, this diagnosis was effectively a death sentence, yet he is still with us. I don’t have a problem with Magic Johnson. I’m not an avid watcher of basketball, so I have little insight into the degree of his talent. Still, I wish him no ill will.
That said, one does have to wonder how me managed to survive for decades with an illness that ravaged so many people. Are we naïve enough to believe that it had nothing to do with either fame or money? I understand; he was a hero to many, but are we okay with this trend? So if you have neither fame nor money, your option is… death?
I have a friend whose father had a liver transplant and now requires anti-rejection medication. He mentioned that his father had therefore made peace with the idea that he’d have to work until the last day of his life. He needs to be in a health plan to survive. The price of such medication is $3000 per month. Go calculate your budget for your living expenses. Jot down $100 for every single day just to stay alive; pencil it in before food, shelter, or safety. That’s the system that we live in.
Have we all made our peace with fame or fortune being instrumental to surviving a medical condition?
What kinds of perks should wealth and privilege bring?
I make a comfortable living. That is, I enjoy many comforts that I could not as student who waited on tables. However, I don’t necessarily believe that we need to hand out keys to European sports cars and large screen televisions to everyone. When I grew up, there was no such thing as internet connectivity. It went from non-existent, to a perk, to a useful tool, to a necessity.
Let’s ponder about how we use our privilege (money, fame, position, etc.) in order to get access to something. We probably don’t even think about it much, after all “you get what you pay for...” Similarly, we pay a little to get some peace of mind with the security of our car with an alarm. Likewise, we pay a little more to protect ourselves and our families with a firearm. We plop down a few dollars for internet connectivity. Patiently we wait in line to get that smartphone. Finally, we run that credit card for that co-pay when we visit the doctor. Some of us may sweettalk our way into a drug trial… We’ve grown used to this.
Though this means that if you don’t have those resources, you don’t have security, protection, information, or health. This is not okay. Access to these should be the same as access to roads and parks. They cost money to upkeep and maintain (collected through taxes), but no one is denied access to them.
What is the least common denominator for everyone?
For those who’d respond with something as mind-numbingly selfish as, “Maybe they should make more money.” then let’s ask ourselves if a person who works full time for 50 weeks a year should be living below the poverty line. The solution to that is to bump the minimum wage. Are you opposed to that?
Do I have a right to not have my car broken into? …to not die at a mass shooting in a grocery store? …to not have my children fall behind other children at public school? Should I need to work until the last day of my life in order to pay for anti-rejection medication for my liver transplant? Or insulin for my diabetes? Should any of these be a function of privilege?