home *** CD-ROM | disk | FTP | other *** search
- LIVING, Page 46The Thing That Screams Wolf
-
-
- What thief has ever been deterred by those unendurable car alarms?
- They're a crime in themselves.
-
- By Lance Morrow -- With reporting by Elizabeth Rudulph/New York
-
-
- They erupt like indignant metal jungle birds, and they whoop
- all night. They make American cities sound like lunatic rain
- forests, all the wildlife affrighted, violated, outraged,
- shrieking.
-
- Like the hungry infant's cry, the car alarm is designed to
- be unignorable -- that is, unendurable. One popular model from
- Code-Alarm, for example, puts out 125 decibels: "Louder than a
- police siren," says a publicist, "louder than a rock concert." A
- good car alarm is a sharp blade of sound: it pierces sleep, it
- goes into the skull like an oyster knife. In a neighborhood of
- apartment buildings, one such beast rouses sleepers by the
- hundreds, even thousands. They wake, roll over, moan, jam
- pillows on their ears and try to suppress the adrenaline.
-
- Car thieves, however, pay no attention to the noise.
-
- Or not much. "Whoop! Scream! Whoop!" goes the traumatized
- Lumina. A passerby hearing the alarm rushes toward the
- beleaguered car, shaking his umbrella and addressing the car
- thief, "See here, my man! Unhand that vehicle!" Right.
-
- A scene, by contrast, from real life: One recent evening
- on West 68th Street in Manhattan, the alarm on a little red
- sports car goes off. Who knows what started it? The passing
- thunderstorm, a bump from a car pulling into the parking space
- ahead, someone leaning against the fender? The plates on the
- wailing car indicate that it comes from Long Island. After 15
- or 20 minutes someone puts a note on the windshield: GO BACK TO
- LONG ISLAND WHERE YOU BELONG AND LEAVE YOUR ALARM THERE. Two
- hours pass; alarm still wailing. Someone else scrawls some
- impolite advice in lipstick on the windshield. An hour after
- that, the car is sprayed with shaving cream and pelted by wet
- trash and rotten food. Eons later the alarm is still
- relentlessly screaming. By this time the police have arrived,
- summoned not by the alarm but by the lynch mob.
-
- Car alarms started out as luxury items and boomed in
- popularity about 1970. Since then, car thefts have nearly
- doubled. In 1989, 1,564,800 motor vehicles were stolen in the
- U.S., up 9.2% from 1988 and 42% over 1985. Would the losses be
- even greater if car alarms did not exist? No one knows. Police
- generally side with car alarms. Having one, after all, can't
- hurt, might help. An amateur thief might be scared off; a
- professional, however, knows how to disarm the system quickly.
-
- The real problem is not the stolen car. Says Ronald
- Clarke, dean at Rutgers University School of Criminal Justice:
- "Car alarms may protect the individual owner, but at a cost to
- everyone else. At a societal level they're not of any use at
- all." Perhaps car alarms, like gun control, are an urban vs.
- rural issue: different cultures need different rules. What is
- tolerable and useful in the country may become a monster in the
- city.
-
- In an intelligent society, a citizen shredding the peace
- of the city and the nerves of its sleeping people would be
- fined and made to stop it. But 10 leading American
- auto-insurance companies offer discounts of 5% to 20% for
- antitheft devices. Six states mandate such breaks. Car owners
- are paid to be antisocial.
-
- If police responded whenever an alarm shrieked wolf, they
- would waste time and taxpayers' money, and dull their own
- crime-fighting reflexes. The endless ululations of alarms in big
- cities fray people's nerves, inure them to noise and, on a
- deeper level, undermine their civic morale, their subliminal
- expectations. Crime, no crime -- the distinction vanishes in
- undifferentiated wailing and rage. The machine screams. The
- quality of life within earshot dies a little more.
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-