What Safety Really Costs

By James Quillian, Economist, Political Analyst & Teacher of Natural Law

There’s an old story about a fellow who spent forty‑odd years working in a factory. Time finally caught up with him. His back was shot, his hands were worn out, and he couldn’t keep pace with the younger men anymore. The company didn’t have the heart to fire him, so they gave him a “job” out by the woodpile, shooting rats.

One day a friend stopped by and pointed out a rat scurrying across the boards. The old man didn’t even lift his rifle. “I never shoot all of ’em,” he said. “If I did, they might decide they don’t need me.”

That little tale doesn’t have a name, but it ought to. It explains more about modern government than a stack of policy papers. Ever notice how the agencies created to solve problems never quite get around to solving them? The problems grow, the budgets grow, and the payroll grows right along with them. If the rats disappear, so do the jobs.

Now take that same principle and apply it to safety. Before the internet came along, corporations didn’t lose sleep over your personal safety. They didn’t have to. But once the digital world opened up, somebody figured out that fear is profitable. If you can scare the daylights out of people, you can sell them protection at any price.

So here you are — an ordinary American, middle‑class, living in a modest home or apartment. What are your real online risks? Truth be told, you probably stand a better chance of getting nipped by a rattlesnake than hacked by some international mastermind. Yet you’re told to keep your phone charged, your codes memorized, and your identity “verified” at all times. Not because you’re in danger, but because you’re a resource. And a frightened resource is worth more than a calm one.

The super‑rich and the famous have real security concerns. The rest of us are simply managed. If you feel safe, you’re harder to sell. So the illusion of danger must always be kept alive — just enough to keep you obedient, never enough to make you revolt.

If safety is truly the highest priority of society, then logic says we should start with the things that save the most lives. But logic rarely gets invited to these meetings.

Consider this: “The 41,951 lives saved by the 55 mph speed limit (1974–1979) was roughly comparable to the number of excess pneumonia‑and‑influenza deaths during the same era.” — Grok

In other words, when we want to save lives, we know exactly how to do it. But saving lives isn’t always the point. Managing fear is. Fear keeps budgets fat, agencies busy, and corporations flush.

The old man at the woodpile understood something we’ve forgotten: If the rats ever go away, somebody loses a job.

And in modern America, the rats are never allowed to go away.