Freedom and the Costs of Technology

In our rush to adapt new technologies and continue our support of existing technologies, we too seldom consider many of the demands those technologies make on us. It is axiomatic that we do not merely own our possessions, they also own us. The same is true of society and its technologies.

A recent debate has arisen from the bowels of social media about “anti-car culture” and the desire that some have to “take away our freedom.” It’s mostly wind and noise, without too much substance.

However, the debate raises an interesting question—with some subsequent questions possible—about how car culture actually takes away some of our freedoms, even as it grants others.

Freedom of Mobility

There can be no question that cars offer a certain freedom. I remember being a teenager, getting a license, and having a car dedicated for my use. That came with a sense of freedom.

I could get myself to swimming practice and to church. I could drive myself to work. I no longer had to ask for a ride to school events or stand waiting outside when my parents were late to pick me up. In those pre-cell phone days, a bus returning early from a long trip could result in a long wait for parents to arrive at the previously announced time to collect their kids.

Rush hour in Miami, north on I-95. Used by CC license. https://tinyurl.com/4uvwdvbn

As it stands now, I can go to the store whenever I need something because I have two vehicles in the garage. As a family we can pick up and drive pretty much anywhere to go see whatever we want.

There is a freedom that comes with our mobility. The possibilities are nearly limitless.

Costs of Mobility

But freedom isn’t free.

The cost of freedom became readily apparent with my first car. At this point in my life, I now pay the same amount for insurance premiums on two (much nicer) vehicles with some comprehensive coverage as I did for just liability insurance as a male teenage driver.

My car gave me freedom to get myself to work, but then it demanded that I get to work.

The same is true now. The 2023 IRS mileage rate is 65.5 cents per mile for businesses for a reason. When all is said and done, I figure it costs me about 50 cents per mile to drive my decade old vehicles. I have to register them, fuel them, insure them, and maintain them. If I want them to stay in decent condition, I need to put them into a garage. Then, because there are paved roads everywhere, my taxes go up to maintain smooth roads in a rugged northern climate.

All of these costs add up to real money. The freedom of mobility isn’t free.

Constrained Choices

Some of the above costs are voluntary, but some of them really aren’t.

Our neighborhood and our town are built for cars. There aren’t enough bike paths and sidewalks to get from anywhere to a store. Because there are so many other cars whizzing around on the roads—some of which lack shoulders entirely—that it often doesn’t feel safe to ride on the road or walk close to it. (I say this as someone who used to ride along state highways with trucks that used to go 55-65mph.) It doesn’t help that we live about 1 mile from an intersection that consistently ranks among the most dangerous in the state, based on the number of accidents.

It is very dangerous to exist without a car where we live. I don’t think this is abnormal for much of the US.

Ride sharing services and taxis are sparse, as well, so that the choices are to feel quite unsafe in travelling to the store or to drive a car. I suppose we could also ask a friend to pick us up, too. That might get old after a while for them.

We could of course, move to a place with wider roads, better sidewalks and trails, or fewer cars. That, however, is not a sign of freedom, it is a sign of the lack of freedom. The prevalence of cars and the infrastructure to support them has limited our options, barring some sort of heroic perseverance.

Historic Choices

Those choices are not fresh ones. The developer, I’m certain, gave no thought to building our neighborhood in a way that did not primarily serve cars. That is because our culture is primarily built upon cars.

Our town and the neighboring small city make decisions based on the assumption that pretty much everyone has a car. That is largely because pretty much everyone has a car. And pretty much everyone will continue to have a car because everything is built presuming they do. The Gordian Knot was tied years ago in boom after World War II and there is little sign of it being untied.

And so, to be a full participant in our community, nearly every household needs to have access to a vehicle.

There is, in a real sense, therefore, a car tax on social participation. The price for entry into polite society includes a vehicle and the money to maintain it. Cars bring an increased freedom of mobility, but they also constrain us in significant ways.

Many of these constraints go unnoticed because we’ve simply become used to them. But that doesn’t mean they aren’t real.

Other Technologies

As we think about cars, so we also ought to think about other technologies.

It is becoming almost impossible to exist within society without a cell phone—not just a regular phone, but a smart phone with data access. We are expected to scan QR codes for a lot of things that used to come in handouts. Organizations require apps to perform basic functions. One institution I know requires an app that is mobile only to get paid. Children are expected to have smart phones in many schools so they can do interactive activities in classes and sometimes homework assignments.

Much of this works because most people have a smart phone. But when your phone breaks, it quickly becomes a crisis. That isn’t a sign of freedom, it is a sign of constraint.

It costs to get over the threshold into polite society. We have to have a phone and a car to function. We often also need home internet and a computer to participate well, too.

Real World Implications

To some, this all may sound silly. Who, after all, does not want these things or doesn’t have them? What is the harm of such demands? They really aren’t that high, right?

These costs add up quickly. They help to explain why Americans are in the richest culture in the world, but often feel they can barely get by.

The average cost of used cars in 2022 rose to over $30k. And, based on anecdotal date, someone can expect to pay around $10k for an entry level used car that is reasonably reliable.

According to AAA, the average cost to operate a new car in 2022 was over $10k, not including the purchase price. Let’s assume that a frugal family who can do their own basic maintenance might cut that down to $5k.

So, the first $5k of a frugal household’s income is largely dedicated to having the vehicle that allows them to have a job. That is assuming one vehicle.

Then, assume that the home internet (no cable) costs $50/month, or $600 per year. And, on top of that we can add the average cell phone bill of $114/month, or $1,368 per year. (I found a range of estimates online and these were some of the reasonable ones.)

We’re now up to about $7,000 just to get into the game. We still don’t have a house or clothes or food or electricity or anything else that we might need. The median household income in 2022 in the US was $74,850 in 2022. So, about 9.35% of the median household’s income might go to hit the basic assumed threshold for entry into society. (I realize that medians and averages are mixed here, but the average household income would likely be lower making my case more strongly.)

So these “basic” technologies put a significant burden on people, especially those at the low end of the income spectrum. We can see how it’s easy to get pinched economically.

So What?

One solution to this condition is to try to create a socialized economic system that subsidizes income to cover many of these costs. I think that is unhelpful in the long run, because it results in a perpetuation (and growth) of the problem rather than recognizing the real situation and responding to it.

Another solution is just to shrug and note that life is hard when you are poor, so work harder. First, that’s pretty mean. More significantly, it fails to recognize that while poor households may feel the pinch harder, we all pay the entry fee to get into society.

Retirees need more invested before they can leave their jobs (an extra $175,000 assuming the 4% rule works) to cover the entry costs. Meanwhile, they are paying that $7k per year (or more, since they will typically need more, better, and higher usage of the products while working) while they are working to save what they need to retire.

The end result is that many of our basic social expectations and the design of our communities put a substantial, often unrecognized, and nearly unavoidable cost on all of us.

As a society, we need to think about the costs that technological expectations place on all of us. We need to think about how poor infrastructure exacts a permanent tax on each household. It may be that costly bike/walking trails and real bike lanes on roads could open up opportunities for reduced economic burdens in the long run. It may be that the cost of printing hard copies of things and not using the latest whizz-bang app could lower entry requirements for society.

There is no simple solution, but we need to think about the real costs of technological adoption or we’re going to find that the economic pressures for social participation will continue to rise.

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