Ethics of individual responsibility vs collective punishment [2019]
The study of mobilities is fascinating in that it highlights the foundations of a civilization, both through the mobilities themselves and the ecosystem they generate and require.
However, today’s subject is approached from a more philosophical than technical or logistical perspective.Through extensive analysis of mobilities, it quickly became apparent that the underlying trend of the 2000s-2010s was the exact opposite of the 1960s-1970s, when the goal was to expand and streamline traffic routes in France. If Georges Pompidou, a man of letters and head of state, were to return among his people, he would likely echo his outburst from that evening in 1966, when a young, ambitious mission officer (and future president) named Jacques Chirac rushed to have him sign a slew of decrees:
“Stop bothering the French! There are too many laws, too many texts, too many regulations in this country! It’s suffocating! Let them live a little, and you’ll see everything will go better! Leave them alone! We must liberate this country!”
One might even unearth this prophetic statement:
“…it’s not by preventing cars from circulating that we’ll make Paris more beautiful.” Follow my gaze…
Let us recall that Pompidou was also aware of certain necessities, as he supported the creation of the Ministry of the Environment in 1971. This shows that, in his mind, modernity was not at odds with ecology.The philosophical underpinning of this discussion is that coercive traffic measures are—officially—implemented to address the issue of accident rates, based on the well-established principle that a vehicle’s kinetic energy (calculated in joules) derives from its mass multiplied by the square of its speed in meters per second (equivalent to 3.6 km/h), divided by 0.5.
For example, a 70 kg pedestrian moving at urban speed (3 km/h) generates 24 joules of kinetic energy; an electric scooter (25 km/h) with unmodified assistance produces 1.9 kilojoules; an experienced cyclist (30 km/h) on a modern, non-electric bike weighing 8 kg generates 2.7 kilojoules; an average cyclist (25 km/h) on an electric-assisted bike weighing 23 kg produces 2.2 kilojoules; an unmodified scooter (45 km/h) weighing 130 kg results in 15.6 kilojoules; and a one-ton city car (50 km/h) equates to 96.3 kilojoules. These figures account for a 70 kg human in each mode of transport, adding their weight to the vehicle’s. The logic is irrefutable: a stationary car causes zero damage compared to a vehicle with significant kinetic energy in the hundreds of joules. However, this explanation does not address a key question: when an accident occurs, factor analysis should determine the exact role of speed in bodily or material damage. Would an accident have been equally fatal at 50 km/h as at 70 km/h, for instance? Would the outcome have been the same if visibility had not been impaired (e.g., in a localized fog bank)?
More crucially, the primary cause of damage in an accident is the sudden stop or rapid deceleration of a moving object, leading to a quick dissipation of kinetic energy. This dissipation, when transferred to the human body or a structure, can cause severe injuries or material destruction. For example, a car traveling at 50 km/h that stops instantly (e.g., hitting a rigid obstacle) transfers far more destructive kinetic energy than one slowing gradually. Thus, beyond initial speed, factors such as the nature of the impact (sudden or cushioned), safety features (seatbelts, airbags, crumple zones), and braking conditions directly influence the severity of damage. This calls for a nuanced approach that considers not just speed but also deceleration management and kinetic energy absorption. Finally, and most importantly, how can society be made to bear the burden of an event, however tragic?
To clarify: how can collective punishment be justified when responsibility is—or should be—individual?Simply put, the collective consents, whether out of laziness, deception, ignorance, or informed acceptance. One can hope that only the last reason drives traffic restriction decisions, but I harbor strong doubts, given the complexity of these issues and their general lack of transparency to the public. As a result, the collective defers to its elected officials and leaders.Yet, when an elected official is found guilty of misconduct, it is customary for the political class to frame it as an individual failing—an isolated act—avoiding blame on the broader social body while absolving themselves by arguing that generalization is unwarranted.
These same officials, quick to exonerate their own ranks or class, have nonetheless enacted a litany of coercive measures against a large swath of citizens, on the grounds that they are road users just like those responsible for accidents. This approach can only stem from minds convinced of their extraordinary status, exempting them from ordinary accountability. Holding the entire social body responsible for the errors of a tiny minority while refusing to apply the same principle to their own class is symptomatic of a significant dysfunction in democratic life.
For if professional politicians can argue that judicial scandals taint only a minority of parliamentarians or government officials, they nonetheless readily condemn all road users based on the actions of a minority of reckless individuals (and even then, the true causes of accidents—mechanical, infrastructural, environmental, meteorological, or medical—may lie beyond human control).
All users, all guilty! This precise point underscores how the current policy of generalized, systematic suspicion toward various road users is, to put it mildly, troubling.
Why resort to collective punishment instead of appealing to individual responsibility? Especially when policies pursued for years have reached their limits, as authorities are unable to accurately quantify the number of drivers operating without licenses or insurance.
It’s as if generalized guilt inevitably leads to deresponsibilization, following a certain logic.
There was once talk of rewarding virtuous drivers, but the allure of profit and the ease of habit closed the lid on good ideas. Meanwhile, authorities showed no lack of zeal in implementing measures most restrictive to freedom of movement. I’ve observed that on roads lacking lane markings, vehicles tend to keep greater distances from one another rather than brushing past as usual. This trend, confirmed across multiple observation points, reinforced my view that France suffers from overregulation and an overload of information burdening the average road user. Common sense too often yields to the arbitrary certainty of policymakers, reports from out-of-touch bureaucrats, and the role of zealous associations justifying their existence by endorsing ever more restrictive measures.
Add to this the fear of some elected officials of facing lawsuits over serious accidents in their jurisdictions, and it becomes clear why speed limits and obstacles proliferate in even the smallest French villages under the guise of the precautionary principle. The appeal of cycling in cities, incidentally, stems from an admission by cyclists: on a bike, you do what you want. At least, until this principle of collective punishment extends to this mode of transport in the future.It is somewhat ironic that contemporary mobilities seem aimed at immobility, as reducing speeds doesn’t just make you go slower—it makes you go less far in the same amount of time.
The rise of hybridization (in the medium term) and electrification (in the long term) is unlikely to shift the current political stance. This is supported by tangible evidence: the engines of the 1970s and those of 2020 are incomparable, with remarkable progress in reducing air and noise pollution, enhancing active and passive safety, and improving fuel efficiency. (Note, however, that fuel taxes have skyrocketed alongside these technical improvements, offsetting the financial benefits expected by users.) Yet, despite these advancements, artificial restrictions and speed limits have multiplied because mentalities have fossilized. Punishing all instead of holding individuals accountable can only breed resentment and deprive society of its vitality. What’s the point of opening borders if you can’t reach them? Why not punish the guilty without leniency, those who have so far happily diluted their responsibility within the social body? The illusion of promised safety lulls populations into mortgaging their freedoms. And when movement—of people, and thus of ideas—comes to a halt, what remains is no longer a country but a museum.
As Thomas Jefferson aptly stated: “Timid men prefer the calm of despotism to the tempestuous sea of liberty.”
To which Étienne de La Boétie might reply: “There is no need to fight this sole tyrant, nor to overthrow him; he is undone by himself, provided the country does not consent to its servitude. It is not necessary to take anything from him, only to give him nothing. The country need not trouble itself to do anything for its own sake, so long as it does nothing against itself. It is the people themselves who allow, or rather cause, their own subjugation, for by ceasing to serve, they would be free. It is the people who enslave themselves, who cut their own throats, who, given the choice between servitude and freedom, abandon liberty and take the yoke, consenting to their own harm, or rather pursuing it.”.
However, today’s subject is approached from a more philosophical than technical or logistical perspective.Through extensive analysis of mobilities, it quickly became apparent that the underlying trend of the 2000s-2010s was the exact opposite of the 1960s-1970s, when the goal was to expand and streamline traffic routes in France. If Georges Pompidou, a man of letters and head of state, were to return among his people, he would likely echo his outburst from that evening in 1966, when a young, ambitious mission officer (and future president) named Jacques Chirac rushed to have him sign a slew of decrees:
“Stop bothering the French! There are too many laws, too many texts, too many regulations in this country! It’s suffocating! Let them live a little, and you’ll see everything will go better! Leave them alone! We must liberate this country!”
One might even unearth this prophetic statement:
“…it’s not by preventing cars from circulating that we’ll make Paris more beautiful.” Follow my gaze…
Let us recall that Pompidou was also aware of certain necessities, as he supported the creation of the Ministry of the Environment in 1971. This shows that, in his mind, modernity was not at odds with ecology.The philosophical underpinning of this discussion is that coercive traffic measures are—officially—implemented to address the issue of accident rates, based on the well-established principle that a vehicle’s kinetic energy (calculated in joules) derives from its mass multiplied by the square of its speed in meters per second (equivalent to 3.6 km/h), divided by 0.5.
For example, a 70 kg pedestrian moving at urban speed (3 km/h) generates 24 joules of kinetic energy; an electric scooter (25 km/h) with unmodified assistance produces 1.9 kilojoules; an experienced cyclist (30 km/h) on a modern, non-electric bike weighing 8 kg generates 2.7 kilojoules; an average cyclist (25 km/h) on an electric-assisted bike weighing 23 kg produces 2.2 kilojoules; an unmodified scooter (45 km/h) weighing 130 kg results in 15.6 kilojoules; and a one-ton city car (50 km/h) equates to 96.3 kilojoules. These figures account for a 70 kg human in each mode of transport, adding their weight to the vehicle’s. The logic is irrefutable: a stationary car causes zero damage compared to a vehicle with significant kinetic energy in the hundreds of joules. However, this explanation does not address a key question: when an accident occurs, factor analysis should determine the exact role of speed in bodily or material damage. Would an accident have been equally fatal at 50 km/h as at 70 km/h, for instance? Would the outcome have been the same if visibility had not been impaired (e.g., in a localized fog bank)?
More crucially, the primary cause of damage in an accident is the sudden stop or rapid deceleration of a moving object, leading to a quick dissipation of kinetic energy. This dissipation, when transferred to the human body or a structure, can cause severe injuries or material destruction. For example, a car traveling at 50 km/h that stops instantly (e.g., hitting a rigid obstacle) transfers far more destructive kinetic energy than one slowing gradually. Thus, beyond initial speed, factors such as the nature of the impact (sudden or cushioned), safety features (seatbelts, airbags, crumple zones), and braking conditions directly influence the severity of damage. This calls for a nuanced approach that considers not just speed but also deceleration management and kinetic energy absorption. Finally, and most importantly, how can society be made to bear the burden of an event, however tragic?
To clarify: how can collective punishment be justified when responsibility is—or should be—individual?Simply put, the collective consents, whether out of laziness, deception, ignorance, or informed acceptance. One can hope that only the last reason drives traffic restriction decisions, but I harbor strong doubts, given the complexity of these issues and their general lack of transparency to the public. As a result, the collective defers to its elected officials and leaders.Yet, when an elected official is found guilty of misconduct, it is customary for the political class to frame it as an individual failing—an isolated act—avoiding blame on the broader social body while absolving themselves by arguing that generalization is unwarranted.
These same officials, quick to exonerate their own ranks or class, have nonetheless enacted a litany of coercive measures against a large swath of citizens, on the grounds that they are road users just like those responsible for accidents. This approach can only stem from minds convinced of their extraordinary status, exempting them from ordinary accountability. Holding the entire social body responsible for the errors of a tiny minority while refusing to apply the same principle to their own class is symptomatic of a significant dysfunction in democratic life.
For if professional politicians can argue that judicial scandals taint only a minority of parliamentarians or government officials, they nonetheless readily condemn all road users based on the actions of a minority of reckless individuals (and even then, the true causes of accidents—mechanical, infrastructural, environmental, meteorological, or medical—may lie beyond human control).
All users, all guilty! This precise point underscores how the current policy of generalized, systematic suspicion toward various road users is, to put it mildly, troubling.
Why resort to collective punishment instead of appealing to individual responsibility? Especially when policies pursued for years have reached their limits, as authorities are unable to accurately quantify the number of drivers operating without licenses or insurance.
It’s as if generalized guilt inevitably leads to deresponsibilization, following a certain logic.
There was once talk of rewarding virtuous drivers, but the allure of profit and the ease of habit closed the lid on good ideas. Meanwhile, authorities showed no lack of zeal in implementing measures most restrictive to freedom of movement. I’ve observed that on roads lacking lane markings, vehicles tend to keep greater distances from one another rather than brushing past as usual. This trend, confirmed across multiple observation points, reinforced my view that France suffers from overregulation and an overload of information burdening the average road user. Common sense too often yields to the arbitrary certainty of policymakers, reports from out-of-touch bureaucrats, and the role of zealous associations justifying their existence by endorsing ever more restrictive measures.
Add to this the fear of some elected officials of facing lawsuits over serious accidents in their jurisdictions, and it becomes clear why speed limits and obstacles proliferate in even the smallest French villages under the guise of the precautionary principle. The appeal of cycling in cities, incidentally, stems from an admission by cyclists: on a bike, you do what you want. At least, until this principle of collective punishment extends to this mode of transport in the future.It is somewhat ironic that contemporary mobilities seem aimed at immobility, as reducing speeds doesn’t just make you go slower—it makes you go less far in the same amount of time.
The rise of hybridization (in the medium term) and electrification (in the long term) is unlikely to shift the current political stance. This is supported by tangible evidence: the engines of the 1970s and those of 2020 are incomparable, with remarkable progress in reducing air and noise pollution, enhancing active and passive safety, and improving fuel efficiency. (Note, however, that fuel taxes have skyrocketed alongside these technical improvements, offsetting the financial benefits expected by users.) Yet, despite these advancements, artificial restrictions and speed limits have multiplied because mentalities have fossilized. Punishing all instead of holding individuals accountable can only breed resentment and deprive society of its vitality. What’s the point of opening borders if you can’t reach them? Why not punish the guilty without leniency, those who have so far happily diluted their responsibility within the social body? The illusion of promised safety lulls populations into mortgaging their freedoms. And when movement—of people, and thus of ideas—comes to a halt, what remains is no longer a country but a museum.
As Thomas Jefferson aptly stated: “Timid men prefer the calm of despotism to the tempestuous sea of liberty.”
To which Étienne de La Boétie might reply: “There is no need to fight this sole tyrant, nor to overthrow him; he is undone by himself, provided the country does not consent to its servitude. It is not necessary to take anything from him, only to give him nothing. The country need not trouble itself to do anything for its own sake, so long as it does nothing against itself. It is the people themselves who allow, or rather cause, their own subjugation, for by ceasing to serve, they would be free. It is the people who enslave themselves, who cut their own throats, who, given the choice between servitude and freedom, abandon liberty and take the yoke, consenting to their own harm, or rather pursuing it.”.