The Mad Scientist

A mad scientist has an offer: He created an invention that will improve the quality of life exponentially for all Americans, but he demands we sacrifice 40,000 random people to him every year. Would you agree? Any sane person would refuse, because how could we comply knowing thousands of innocent people would die? Motor accidents killed over 46,000 Americans in 2022—approximately 126 deaths a day. Society views it as normal, but it won’t be long before the number of annual deaths equals fighting a yearly Vietnam War. According to the Chapman survey of America’s top 100 fears, the only fear associated with driving is getting hit by an intoxicated driver, which came in at 36.5%. However, this demonstrates that despite people’s fear of others endangering their lives, they fail to consider the possibility that they themselves pose the risk as well.
Last year, I was in a terrible car crash. Sliding out of our icy lane at 30 miles an hour, we side-swiped a truck, spinning 90 degrees. Another truck hit us, crushing the passenger door 22 inches inward and spinning us around another 90 degrees. We ended up against a cement barrier with cars stopped all around us and strangers at the window, though I have no memory of how we got there. What I do remember is the sensation of my breath being knocked out of my lungs and the feeling of a stomachache in the wrong place. “Who’s the current president?” someone asked as others worked to cut the doors off our vehicle, but I couldn’t come up with an answer.
The rest of the day flew by in a blur of ambulance rides, stretchers, CT scans, and IVs. Though the paramedics told us that we shouldn’t have all made it out of the vehicle alive, my mother and my friends were in stable condition, even though they were cut up and sore. Contrastingly, however, I had collapsed my left lung, lacerated my liver, and earned an overnight stay in the hospital. The following week, every movement required an immense amount of effort to push through the agony, and I couldn’t sit up on my own. Even after I returned home, my injuries cut short my volleyball season, and my activities were heavily restricted.
Since then, I’ve fully healed, though for months after the crash, I was unable to ride in a car without immense amounts of anxiety, regardless of how much I trusted the driver. Simply passing a vehicle on a two-way road would spike my heart rate, and it took a long time before I could release my grip on the armrests and look ahead at the road. Now, as one of the many effects of the car crash, I’m much more aware of the danger we needlessly put ourselves in when we drive. Just last week, as I was on the way to a school event, I noticed my driver taking selfies to send to their Snapchat streaks and checking their Instagram. We were on the freeway. I was nothing short of incredulous, because I, for one, am not willing to have “Killed by Snapchat” inscribed on my tombstone. Whether or not we realize it, we’re gambling on the currency of life, so we need to educate our drivers on the risks.
On the freeway, cars travel about 100 feet per second. Glance at your friend beside you, and you’ve traveled the length of a semi-truck. Fiddle with the radio to select a song, and you’ve traveled the length of a football field. It already takes a full second before we see danger, process it, and start braking, and when we glance away, we comply with driving blindfolded. Additionally, all these statistics assume driving conditions are in peak condition. In icy or snowy conditions like those of my own accident, it takes ten times longer to stop. If you wouldn’t agree to driving with your hands over your eyes for the length of a football field, don’t deceive yourself into believing that sending a “quick” text is any different.
It’s necessary for every driver to acknowledge the risks that come with driving. We fail to realize how much responsibility we carry when we sit behind the wheel, and if 30 miles an hour is enough to cut up my insides and take away my ability to breathe, what would a crash at 60 feel like? Driving isn’t a right; it’s a privilege that we need to treat with solemnity and responsibility. Each time we step into our vehicles of convenience, we’re paying tribute to the mad scientist, and if we aren’t fully aware of that, we will become one of the 40,000.