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By Cody Goodfellow
As freedom-loving Americans, we demand a weak police
force and judicial system that will respect our privacy
and give us the benefit of the doubt at every turn, but
we also demand the kind of security and safety that comes with a police
state. The shaky balance between order and liberty is a paradox we all
face every day, when we entrust each other with our lives and our property
on the roads. The police department in San Diego has never been able
to completely control the problem, and with the city's rabid growth and
escalating traffic hassles, breaking, or at least chipping away at, the
law is fast becoming routine.
Declaring martial law is expensive and bad public relations for a tourist
town, so the city has gone to a private corporation for a solution. Sixteen
intersections in San Diego are now watched by high speed still-image cameras,
which are owned and operated by Lockheed IMF, a domestic division of the
mammoth defense contractor that builds spyplanes for the Pentagon. A blow
has been struck for order, and is quietly taking an average of 2000 San
Diegans a month to task for their casual lawbreaking. The only ones you
can hear complaining about it all have tickets in their hands with photos
of themselves caught redhanded, so how can you take them seriously? If
you can't, congratulations, and when you learn to drive like a true Californian,
we'll see you in traffic school.
The red light camera system hasn't aroused much controversy because it
draws a clear boundary between order and liberty, which is a beautiful
thing in the abstract, but tends to justify lawless excess in the real
world. It also stands right at the edge of social custom, leaving a lot
of people who don't think of themselves as dangerous scofflaws on the wrong
side of the line. How many of you have watched some reckless jackass narrowly
miss clipping your car as he or she rockets through a red light, and wished
for a policeman to punish them? How many of you have run a red light for
what seemed like very valid reasons, and bitched out "The Man" for ripping
you off with an unfairly large fine? What side you stand on can change
depending on how much time you have to get to work, and some of the thorny
issues the cameras represent deserve serious examination.
Roughly 40 cities have contracted with private corporations to monitor
their most embattled intersections; Lockheed IMF runs 38 of them. The National
Insurance Institute has studied their impact on collisions caused by red
light violators, which account for some 25% of accidents, and Secretary
of Transportation Rodney Slater has recommended them to city governments
as an effective deterrent. Ron Jury, a vice president of public relations
at Lockheed IMF, stressed this part of the program's appeal in a telephone
interview from his office in Teaneck, New Jersey. "In recent years, you've
seen a real public shift against aggressive driving. Intersection accidents
claim thousands of lives every year, and this is a program that can impact
that." Still, if they expected society to embrace them as a boon to safety,
they wouldn't have made them bulletproof. Officer Chuck Kaye of the SDPD's
photo enforcement task force, claims there's been very little controversy. "Some
people appreciate it, others, especially those who've been ticketed, probably
have a different view."
A very different view, to say the least, is presented by local traffic
school owner Patrick Mulroy, who runs a Web site (www.ticketassassin.com)
on contesting tickets. "Safety," he insists, "is a smokescreen that they
like to throw out there to justify making money." According to Mulroy,
the city and Lockheed IMF have entered into a partnership to gouge a monstrous
windfall out of ordinary citizens who've never been ticketed before, even
under the watchful eyes of a policeman. It's not a terribly compelling
scenario until you look at the players--a moderately idealistic Governor
committed to undoing the hatchet-job his predecessor did on the budget;
a city government legendary for its lust for big-ticket items taxpayers
won't spring for; and a private corporation, which does, after all, exist
to make money. "These tickets are the ultimate perversion of the traffic
court system," Mulroy says, "but this technology is just the flavor of
the week. The entire traffic enforcement system has been turned into a
revenue-generator for the state."
And violations generate revenue that make them a mainstay in annual budgets.
Five to six million people get tickets in California every year for one-point
infractions. That's over a billion dollars a year if you look at an average
fine of $120 to $140. According to Patrick Mulroy, only about one percent
of people or less contest their tickets, and ever since the traffic court
system was streamlined in 1968 to exclude jury trials and court-appointed
defense attorneys, the margin of income over expenses has continued to
grow even as our driving grows worse.
The problem with this scenario, in effect, if not in motive, is that the
cameras are pitched not as a tool to catch violators, but to deter them.
If everybody obeys the law, the river of fines dries up. Dana King, vice
president of marketing at Lockheed IMF's San Diego headquarters, is confident
that everything is above-board, and that the cameras are a necessity. "You
can never get effective control of this problem until you have automated
enforcement. We do a lot of public awareness, and we tell people, 'if you
go through this intersection when the light's red, you're going to have
a ticket.' Go figure." The advent of the cameras was heralded by a mass
postcard mailing to every household in San Diego, along with bus billboards
and posters in the DMV, all so the citations would come as no surprise.
The figures for the citations in other photo enforced cities give a rosy
image of compulsive utopian brotherhood on the roadways within a couple
of years. A decrease in violations of 20 to 40% occurs in the first year,
and roughly ten percent each year thereafter. Charlotte, North Carolina
had a record 60% decrease. Accidents decline by about the same percentage
elsewhere. Figures for San Diego have not been compiled yet, and no one
was willing to give a preliminary estimate, but Lt. Mary Cornicell of the
SDPD told me "the theory is that if the citations go down at a particular
intersection, then the number of collisions will go down, too. I've learned
from the vender that we haven't photographed any accidents in San Diego,
so that's probably a good thing."
San Diego Traffic Manager Toni Barradas provided me with figures for the
number of photo enforcement citations issued since the program began, and
the numbers are staggering, suggesting that 1) no one in San Diego reads
bus billboards or junkmail, and 2) San Diego has quietly slipped into a
state of near-anarchy behind our backs. The photo enforcement tickets boosted
the average police-issued total of 250 a month to 863 in October of last
year, then climbed as high as 2314 in December. And the numbers aren't
declining; in August of this year, the last month for which statistics
were available, 2276 tickets were issued to hard-headed, lead-footed San
Diegans. These skyrocketing totals are natural, since the intersections
were never policed 24 hours a day before.
If these figures seem to fulfill local conspiracy theorists' direst warnings,
the case of El Cajon, which has had the cameras in service since October
of '96, bears out Lockheed's claims. Violations at four of six intersections
of June of this year totaled 128, and 43 were issued. Officer Van Every,
who presides over El Cajon's photo enforcement program, says he's only
had to appear in court about half a dozen times in the last three months. "Most
review the information and the photograph, and pay the fine. We try to
be fair. This system was put in to reduce the number of accidents, and
red light violations cause 25% of all accidents." Again, exact figures
for the actual reduction in violations and accidents were hard to come
by, but Van Every allowed they'd gone down by "a pretty good percentage."
But there's a cost, too: as Patrick Mulroy explains, the cameras lack
a police officer's expertise in making a traffic stop. "If I'm a cop, and
you rob a bank in a stolen car, or a car with no front plates, and run
through a red light, I stop you, get all the money, and you're in jail.
You rob a bank and there's no cop there--there's Robocop. You're wearing
a hood, you're in a stolen car, and you run 1500 red lights; there's 1500
pictures of you in a hood in a stolen car full of money. It can't do what
a cop can do--exercise judgment and discretion, as only a human can."
Welcome to The Machine
For those of you who haven't yet received the city's informative but expensive "Statement
Of Technology," the system itself is elegant in its cut-and-dried simplicity,
and works like this: six tenths of a second after the light turns red,
sensor loops in the road just over the limit line are activated, and trigger
the camera when a car passes over them at a speed greater than ten miles
per hour. The timing device is accurate to 3/1000ths of a second; the camera
has a Schneider lens, imported Dutch surveillance technology. About 1 1/2
seconds later, the camera takes a second shot of the violator moving through
the intersection. From these, two more shots are generated later, one of
the driver's face, and one of the front license plate.
The film and memory cards are collected and delivered to Lockheed IMF's
photo interpretation center in Sorrento Valley. The photos are scanned
and assessed by two technicians to see if 1) a violation did indeed occur,
and 2) if the violator can be identified. Only 30 to 45% of the photos
become tickets; these get assigned randomly generated citation numbers,
passed on to another, who checks the photo data against DMV files to match
the car and driver with the file data. The citation recommendations are
then forwarded to the police, who review them before having them sent out.
A supervising technician at the Lockheed IMF photo interpretation center
told me they have far less leeway than a police officer when reviewing
the tickets, but stick to a hard and fast chronological yardstick that
makes an eyeblink seem like a long nap. "Because of the technology, we
can capture the person entering the intersection the instant the light
turns red. A lot of people can't conceive of 6/10ths of a second, so they
honestly feel that they entered at a yellow light. But we can show that
the light had been red for x amount of time, even if it hasn't been a whole
second. If there's any question that a violation occurred, then we won't
issue a citation. Any time we issue one, we're confident that a violation
occurred."
Reprinted with permission. Copyright © 1999 by Cody Goodfellow. All rights
reserved.
This article originally appeared in the November issue of The Weekly, San Diego. |