By Kevin D. Williamson
Wednesday, May 11, 2016
Residents of most cities, even Cleveland, have a sense of
civic pride. New Yorkers have Stockholm syndrome, and they will tolerate almost
anything from their city: Show them hideous subterranean vermin and Pizza Rat
becomes an unofficial city mascot. Renting a one-bedroom apartment for $5,000 a
month, paying punitive taxes, walking past garbage bags piled up head-high on
the sidewalk, being governed by Bill de Blasio — New York can do wrong, so long
as it does wrong big. The one thing New York cannot bear, municipally, is being
second-rate. There was never going to be a long-lasting situation in which you
could get an Uber in Provo or Las Vegas but not in Manhattan.
Austin, on the other hand, is cool with being
second-rate.
It always has been. Austin spent about 30 years
(including the time I lived there) desperately pretending to be Berkeley, until
it realized it was bigger and more important than Berkeley, at which point it
immediately began pretending to be Brooklyn. Las Vegas revels in its cheesy
derivativeness, its miniature New York City skyline and its pyramid and its
ersatz Roman palaces. It’s all good, cheery fun. Austin, on the other hand,
suffers from sad just-as-good-ism: Just as good as Silicon Valley, just as good
as Brooklyn, just as good as . . . wherever.
But Luxor isn’t a real Egyptian pyramid, and Austin isn’t
just as good as the places it wishes to compare favorably with.
You can get an Uber in Iowa City, Reno, or Fargo, and in
MedellĂn, Lisbon, Bangalore, Taipei, Perth, or Tel Aviv.
But not in Austin.
Given a choice between annoying its long-established
transit cartels and confirming itself as second-rate, Austin voted for
second-rate.
In December, Austin’s city council passed a set of
regulations that make it difficult for companies such as Uber and Lyft, another
app-based ride-sharing outfit, to operate in the Texas capital. A referendum
would have overturned those regulations, but Austin’s voters rejected it.
Austinites are conservative in the old-fashioned sense of that word, the way
politically progressive people in San Francisco and Tribeca tend to be deeply
conservative, desiring to preserve their favorite coffee shops in amber. Even
Austin’s unofficial city motto — “Keep Austin Weird” — is fundamentally
conservative, in that sense.
Disruptive innovation? Not in my backyard, says Austin.
The anti-Uber forces in Austin claim, predictably, that
this isn’t about protecting a politically influential taxi cartel and its
generous campaign donations, but about taking a stand against the Ayn
Rand–style unregulated capitalism endured by the poor, oppressed people of . .
. the Upper West Side, Zurich, and Copenhagen. This is pure poppycock. As our
friend Avik Roy points out, the same city council that is demanding criminal
background checks on Uber drivers had, only six weeks before, prohibited other
companies from asking job applicants about their criminal histories. This isn’t
about safety — it’s about the taxi racket and the gentlemen who operate it, an
old-fashioned Democratic interest group.
New York has had its regulatory fights with Uber, and it
probably will have more. Even Las Vegas, whose anything-goes ethic is in the
case of Uber very much reinforced by the desire of the local authorities not to
arrest any more money-spending tourists for DUI than is absolutely necessary,
had some issues. Uber walked away from Vegas, and Vegas walked back most of its
demands. New York has found a way to accommodate Uber and others. Even
lefter-than-left San Francisco came to an accommodation, because San Franciscans
will not tolerate living in a place that as a matter of culture and technology
is behind Salt Lake City.
Austin is, like Las Vegas, one of those places where the
average drunk gets drunker than average. Parties on Sixth Street, South By
Southwest, University of Texas football games, and a hundred other public
events in the city are accompanied by a fair amount of Shiner Bock and Tito’s.
Two Temple University researchers found that the low-cost Uber X service had
helped to substantially reduce drunk driving in California. Reproducing those
results nationally would save billions of dollars and thousands of lives — and
avoid the creation of thousands of new criminals. But Austin has cronies to
protect.
Uber suspended its operations in the city on Monday. If you
need a ride, you can take a trip back in time to 1933 and have somebody call
one for you, perhaps with one of those old-fashioned crank-operated telephones,
and wait the better part of an hour. Maybe he’ll even say, “Meter’s running,
Mac!” for the full-on retro experience. Because that’s what you’re looking for
at 2 a.m. after making the wrong call on that fourth margarita.
Drunk driving is something to think about. But in the
end, this isn’t a question of cost-benefit analysis. It’s a matter of transit
relations between consenting adults’ being not one damned bit of the Austin
city’s council’s business. Uber connects people who need rides with people who
need money. It isn’t perfect, but perfection need not be our standard — not if
you’ve ever tried to get a taxi in Murray Hill at 5 p.m. Is ride-sharing better
than the status quo? How about we let people decide for themselves, like
adults?
People in Austin apparently cannot trust themselves to
make those kinds of decisions. They’re second-rate, and they know it.
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