Rule #74: Motorcycle Paradox
As an insurance geek and underwriter, I don’t get many chances to teach my kids life skills from my career. I can’t show them how to cut a perfect dovetail joint, rebuild a carburetor, or tune up an old Chevy. Most of what I do is behind a desk, heavy on spreadsheets and contracts. Not exactly the stuff kids find exciting.
But when the pandemic came along, suddenly I had the chance to teach them about something I know well: risk.
As an underwriter by trade, I spend my career measuring risk, deciding which risks to accept or decline, and how to price the assumption of that risk. The challenge isn’t to avoid risk altogether — that would be impossible. The real challenge is to take the right risks at the right price.
Take cars, for example. The best way to avoid liability risk is to keep the car in the garage forever. If you never drive, you can’t get in an accident. But then what’s the point of owning a car at all? A car is built to go places. Hiding in the garage isn’t really an option.
Every parent of a new 16-year-old driver knows the knot in your stomach when your child pulls out of the driveway alone for the first time. There’s no way around it: letting them drive means accepting the risk that something could happen. And yet, it’s also the only way they’ll grow, learn, and live their lives. Risk is part of living.
The same is true of big societal risks. When COVID arrived, people argued endlessly about how much risk to take. Was it safer to keep kids home from school and work? Of course. But the longer we hid in our garages, the smaller and darker those garages began to feel. The truth is, life cannot be lived without risk.
That’s why underwriting is really a process of understanding. The better we understand the risk, the better decisions we can make about it. And that requires accurate, unbiased information. Bad information leads to bad decisions — in insurance, in health, in life. I’ve seen it in my own industry: disinformation once paralyzed coverage for sexual misconduct claims, environmental liabilities, and construction defects. At first, panic ruled. But once the facts came out and the numbers were better understood, common sense returned to the market. The same lesson applies everywhere: listen broadly, but believe only what you can verify. People have biases. Truth matters.
Which brings me to the Motorcycle Paradox.
Nothing has more conclusive data than the effectiveness of seat belts in preventing death and injury. That data is so overwhelming that every state in the U.S. mandates seat belt use. Yet at the same time, there are over 8 million motorcycles on the road — none with seat belts — and in 31 states, adults are legally allowed to ride without helmets. How can that be?
Why do we mandate absolute safety in one case, while tolerating enormous risk in another?
The answer is simple: society accepts that people know the risks of riding motorcycles, and are willing to assume them. We don’t outlaw motorcycles, skydiving, rock climbing, or even unhealthy food. Freedom allows for risk — and risk allows for life.
That’s the paradox. We can’t always make risk “fair” or consistent. What we can do is make our peace with it.
I wore a helmet every time I rode a motorcycle, not because I was angry at those who didn’t, but because I understood my own risk. In the same way, I wear a mask in crowded places because I’m 60 and diabetic. That’s my choice. I don’t waste my time fuming about people who make different choices. Life in a free society comes with risk, and also with tolerance.
That’s what I want my kids to learn: be good underwriters. Don’t be paralyzed by fear, and don’t assume reckless, unnecessary danger. Learn how to weigh the risk, understand it, and make thoughtful choices. I’d wrap them in bubble wrap if I could, but that’s not living.
So drive safely. Take reasonable precautions. But don’t stay locked in the garage. Life goes too fast not to get on the motorcycle once in a while — just make sure you wear the helmet.
Love, Dad