My latest Calgary Herald column looks at Alberta's new distracted driving legislation, which officially takes effect on September 1st. I argue that the entire approach of the law is rather problematic:
While Albertans may be in agreement about the risks of driving while talking on a cellphone or texting, such a consensus should not make us blind to the many flaws of Bill 16.
Alberta's distracted driving legislation will come into effect Sept. 1, and a warm sense of gratitude seems to have emerged since the announcement last month -a gratefulness that government is finally going to tackle this scourge.
There are those upset by the exclusion of hands-free devices, but from an enforceability point of view, you might as well include daydreaming, too.
Fewer distracted drivers would certainly mean safer roads. It does not necessarily follow that Bill 16 will produce such an effect.
Two studies released last year in the United States by the Highway Loss Data Institute illustrate why. One found that states with cellphone bans saw no decrease in crashes compared to states with no bans. Another found the same for states with bans on texting while driving -three of the four states with such bans actually saw increases in crashes.
Part of the reason, researchers suspect, is that drivers were holding their devices low to avoid detection. So instead of less distracted driving, we might simply get more dangerous distracted driving.
The other major problem of Bill 16 is how muddled it is, and how much of it seems to have very little to do with actually making the roads safer.
That was illustrated by recent remarks from Transportation Minister Luke Ouellette on how the law applies to eating while driving: "If all of a sudden, you open a chocolate bar and take a small bite . . . we don't want an officer giving you a ticket for that. But if you have a Quarter Pounder in front of your face, and you are using both hands and driving with your knee, you deserve to get a ticket."
What does this mean, exactly? Eating is permitted, so long as it can be confined to a single hand? The food must not block your field of view? Candy is fine, but nothing containing meat?
Given how many of us grab a bite while on the go, and given the threat of a $172 ticket, such questions might not seem so facetious.
But that's the confusing reality of this new law.
As the minister notes, you may open a candy bar and take a bite. You may open a pack of cigarettes and light one. You may open a CD case and insert or remove a disc.
However, being pulled over and holding a turnedoff cellphone would constitute an offence under this law. Reading a text while stopped at a train crossing would constitute an offence under this law. So, too, would skipping songs on your MP3 player while waiting in the Tim Hortons drive-thru lineup.
The obvious danger of someone texting while barrelling down Deerfoot Trail does not explain the threat posed by someone using his BlackBerry to read the list of everyone's coffee order at the drive-thru window.
Surely, defenders of the law would say, police would not write a ticket for something so trivial. But if you consider such offences to be trivial, why defend a law that has specifically included them?
Moreover, anticipating an unspoken police policy to ignore unspecified provisions of the law seems quite odd.
In defending the law, many are drawing the comparison between distracted driving and drinking and driving.
Banning a motorist from saying, "I'm stuck at a train, I'll be a few minutes late," on his phone is the equivalent of criminalizing a sip of wine two hours before driving.
Another problem may prove to be technological: in two decades, we've gone from brick-sized cellphones to Bluetooth. Two decades from now, we may receive calls on implants in our molars and e-mail messages may simply appear in our field of view. Laws like this will seem rather moot.
In the meantime, we're left with legislation that tries to fix what government may not be able to fix, and legislation that also tries to fix what isn't broken.