DRI-311 for week of 3-30-14: The Dead Hand of Regulation

An Access Advertising EconBrief:

The Dead Hand of Regulation

One of the venerable legal principles, dating from common law and drummed into every lawyer, is the rule against perpetuities. Its purpose is to stay the “dead hand” of the past from controlling life into the indefinite future.

Economists have adopted the study of economic regulation as a specialized field. They have gradually come to realize that regulation acts as a “dead hand” that retards the advance of progress wherever it prevails.

This characterization departs radically from the conventional view of regulation as an all-purpose cure-all for whatever ails an economic system. The knee-jerk responses of mainstream news media and academia to a problem are variously to blame an absence of regulation, excoriate lax regulation, perceive insufficient regulation or lament poorly funded regulation. Indeed, these constitute virtually the full menu of choice.

The obvious inference to draw from this is that regulation is the cine qua non of problem solution. Sure, sometimes the shortsighted legislators neglect to regulate some stray industry or human activity; sometimes the regulators get lazy and just sit on their hands or posteriors; sometimes those silly laws tie the hands of regulators; and sometimes we stingy so-and-sos don’t give the heroic regulators the money they need to do their jobs. But set up a good old government bureau, populate it with noble, altruistic, tough-minded, tender-hearted civil servants and unlock the public treasury – then just watch those regulators go. The industry will hum like a Welsh chorus – so we are supposed to assume.

Unfortunately, economists have been hard put to find even one exemplary example of regulation. It isn’t just that regulatory agencies share the deficiencies common to all government agencies. No, they invent new ones. And this is just about the only kind of innovation they do promote. In all other respects, regulation is analogous to the “dead hand” that the institution of law has been trying to thwart for over a millennium.

Some of the most famous case studies of regulation provide persuasive testimony for the economic case against it.

Taxicab Regulation

Almost every major city in the U.S. regulates taxicabs. Taxi regulation began not long after the automobile’s popularity began to zoom upward; it accompanied the regulation of trucking in the 1920s and 1930s. It is a variety of occupational regulation, requiring licensure and registration with the police department. Taxi fares are regulated by city bureaus rather than marketplace competition, and this regulation serves as a cartel that prevents competitive price declines by taxi firms (or individual drivers). Licenses have been severely restricted – for example, New York City has issued virtually no new taxi licenses after World War II. The licenses, or “medallions,” could be sold. The restriction on their number and cartelization of fares combine to create monopoly profits that are capitalized into the market price of the medallions; that is why medallion prices have sometimes reached six figures.

Economics textbooks teach that consumption is the end-in-view behind all economic activity. We are all consumers. They demonstrate that competitive markets produce larger output and lower prices than do the same market dominated by a single monopoly producer, thus validating the economist’s customary preference for pure competition over pure monopoly as a form of market organization. Since the local taxi cartels created by taxicab regulation essentially duplicate the outcome of pure monopoly – but with producer benefits spread over multiple firms rather than a single one – it is not surprising that economic textbooks have long featured taxicab regulation as a real-world application of regulation-gone-wrong.

Anybody who has ridden a taxicab regularly over the last half-century didn’t need to pick up an economics textbook to know that something was wrong with taxi service. It was proverbially difficult to get a taxi during morning and evening rush hours, and also during the “bar rush” late at night. When the city was visited by bad weather or a big convention, taxis were even scarcer. Wait times could stretch into hours even during the off-peak times for predominantly black residential areas plagued by high rates of crime. The level of professionalism among drivers varied from sky high to dirt poor.

We can gauge the degree of influence exerted on political reality by academic economists and taxi consumers by the fact that only a tiny handful of communities have deregulated taxi service in response to the complaints of either group. Washington, D.C. long featured the nation’s least regulated taxi market – and lowest taxi fares – among major cities. In the mid-1980s, Kansas City, MO deregulated both taxi fares and entry into the market, ushering in a few years of fierce taxi competition and dramatic benefits to local consumers and tourists. But the forces of regulation eventually regained the upper hand in the 1990s and the market was once more cartelized. A few other cities experience their competitive moment. Until recently, the Dark Side ruled mostly unopposed.

In 2010, somebody came up with a new kind of challenge to taxicab regulation. Bucking the regulatory establishment with lawsuits and publicity campaigns was too costly and difficult. Rather than confront taxicab regulation head on, it was better to make an end run around it.

The Uber Innovation: Outflanking Taxi Regulation

Technology made it inevitable. The intersection of the Internet, online credit-card payment methods, smart phones and GPS mapping suddenly made traditional taxicab service virtually obsolete. Now customers could book a taxi the same way they make a dinner reservation, by calling up a provider, reserving a car and paying in advance. Then they could track their vehicle’s progress to their location. No more “mission impossible” trips during peak hours! No more dealing with unresponsive monopoly providers! No more surly, badly dressed drivers or uncomfortable vehicles! No more monopoly taxi fares!

But wait – what about the dearth of drivers? What happened to the regulatory bottleneck that prevented entry of firms? This is where the end run came in. The new taxicab entrant, a firm called Uber, got around taxi regulation by not being a taxicab company. First, it entered the market for transportation services by providing town cars for its trips. These Lincolns, Cadillacs, BMWs and Mercedes were functioning as livery vehicles because they were available by appointment only; thus, they were technically outside the realm of taxi regulation. (As we’ll see, that hasn’t stopped taxi regulators from trying to regulate the company or its imitators.) Then it doubled as a middleman that recruited ordinary drivers and matched them up with people who needed trips where the drivers were going – or were willing to go. Thus, Uber reduced overhead costs to the bone by utilizing pre-existing capital goods that had competing alternative uses. Either way, though, the central idea is to provide the services of a taxicab company without being shackled by taxicab regulation.

The company took about a fifth of the cost of a trip, leaving the rest as gross revenue to the driver. The trip cost itself is calculated much as a taxi fare would be – distance based unless the car is moving less than 11 miles-per-hour, then time-based. Uber’s driver compensation incorporates a tip and the passenger advisory declares tipping unnecessary. This muddies direct comparison with taxi fares, particularly for Uber’s high-end livery-like town-car trips. Most of the customary problems faced by both driver and passenger are eliminated or greatly reduced. For example, there is very little incentive to rob an Uber driver since they do not collect the revenue (even tips) for their trips. Not surprisingly, Uber has attracted imitative competitors like the ride-sharing services Lyft and Sidecar.

It would seem, then, that this innovative new form of competition to traditional taxicab service is a boon to consumers. Since the whole purpose of economic activity is to benefit consumers, that change is a good thing. Since the purpose – the ostensible purpose – of regulation is to make things better, regulators should welcome this change with open arms. How do the noble, heroic, altruistic, tough-minded municipal civil servants feel about Uber and its ilk?

Why, they hate it, of course.

The Empire Strikes Back Against Uber, et al

“I’m hoping that people will…pay attention to what this actually is, which is an attempt to deregulate the taxi industry.” That is the view of Matthew Daus, former chairman of New York City’s Taxi and Limousine Commission, as quoted in a profile of Uber in Bloomberg Businessweek (2/24-3/02, “Invasion of the Taxi Snatchers,” by Brad Stone). His opinions were apparently shared by officials in Miami and Austin, TX, where Uber was prevented from operating by regulators. Perhaps because New York City has long been profiled in so many unfavorable examinations of taxicab regulation, the Bloomberg piece focused particularly on Uber‘s operations in San Francisco.

Despite an increasing population (up by 300,000 in the last decade), San Francisco “has long capped the number of taxi medallions.” Members of the taxi cartel “didn’t seem to care about prompt customer service since they make money primarily by leasing their cars to drivers” and extracting the monopoly rents embedded in the medallions through the fees charged for lease, dispatch and phone-order services provided to drivers. (The only way drivers could afford weekly lease fees of $400 or more was by reaping the benefits of monopoly taxi fares.) The article quotes the acerbic view of David Autor, MIT economics professor, that the industry is “characterized by high prices, low service, and no accountability. It was ripe for entry because everybody hates it.”

Well, that certainly doesn’t sound like an idyllic regulated industry, does it? It sounds more like taxi operations in New York City; indeed, like the typical regulated industry anywhere. Why, then, are regulators so averse to change? Why are they dead set against interlopers like Uber?

Innovation implies change. Change means doing things differently. That means that either the people doing them now must change – or new people must do them using the new methods. And that makes the incumbent doers unhappy, since they lose their jobs or suffer a loss of income or both. In this case, the disaffected include taxi-company owners and employees and taxicab drivers.

The Bloomberg piece is replete with complaints. Some complainants are cab drivers, who “complain that they can no longer pick up riders in the city’s tonier neighborhoods.” They stare down and block Uber and block ride-sharing drivers in traffic and confront them at airport terminals. “I’ve made it my personal mission to make it as difficult as possible for these guys to operate,” vows a director of the San Francisco Cab Drivers Association.

Taxi companies play a harder game of ball. “In Boston and Chicago, taxi operators have sued their cities for allowing unregulated companies to devalue million-dollar operating permits.” Uber has faced lawsuits and regulatory objections in San Francisco, New York City and virtually everywhere else it has been. Taxi companies “accuse Uber of risking passengers’ lives by putting untested drivers on the road, offering questionable insurance, and lowering prices as part of a long-term conspiracy to kill the competition, among other transgressions.”

Of course Uber is lowering prices – that is what competition is all about, reducing monopoly prices and benefitting consumers. Uber lacks the ability to “kill competition,” as the entrance of various competing ride-sharing services proves. As for killing its own customers – well, Uber‘s interest hardly lies in attracting big-dollar liability lawsuits. Nothing could be more slipshod than traditional taxi regulation. Its taxi-inspections and employee background-checks were laughably lax; for example, it is a truism that convicted felons usually can only get a job driving a cab. Monopoly taxi firms have much less incentive to keep passenger interests in mind than Uber does today.

Regulators themselves feed off the complaints of incumbents because they need a constituency to protect. By protecting the interests of incumbents, they are really protecting their own interests. If the regulated go out of business, then regulators will have nobody to regulate and no justification for retaining their jobs and incomes. Notice the tacit premise in the quoted passage objecting to Uber‘s hidden agenda of deregulation; namely, that deregulation is unthinkable.

But what about consumer complaints? They were legion under regulation. Have they vanished with the advent of competition?

How Innovation Solves Problems that Regulation Doesn’t

The principal complaint is lodged against Uber‘s “surge pricing,” which “jacks up” (Bloomberg’s wording) prices in peak times like rush hours. While prices are announced to customers in advance, that doesn’t forestall grumbling or accusations of “exploiting customers.”

For decades, academic economists pushed this very type of “peak-load pricing” for regulated electric utilities, which experience the same peak loading problems that taxi firms do. The idea was to persuade customers to use less electricity during peak times and spread their use more evenly throughout the day.

The same logic applies to taxi demand; ironically, consumer complaints show that demand is indeed sensitive to price on-peak. But Uber‘s real innovation is that surge pricing has solved one of the age-old supply problems of taxicab operation: how to “produce” more drivers in bad weather, evening rush-hour and late night peaks. Bloomberg interviewed a dozen drivers and found agreement that the higher prices attracted drivers magnetically to the street just at the time they were most needed. The peaking problem is that the quantity of taxi services demanded greatly exceeds the quantity supplied. Surge pricing significantly reduces the former and greatly increases the latter. Voila! Problem solved in less than four years. This is something taxicab regulation never succeeded in doing – hardly even attempting – over a century of existence.

This is just the start of competition’s problem-solving career in taxi-type services. Uber CEO Travis Kalanick envisions “a dense network of Uber cars in every city,” which could be used “to deliver such things as packages from online stores and takeout food. (The company delivered flowers on Valentine’s Day.) Uber could one day even allow other companies – say, a laundry pickup startup – to use its fleet.” Eventually, the widespread coordination of private cars for multiple purposes could vastly cut down on the number of autos and fuel use and improve the efficient use of existing transportation capacity. Again, this can only be accomplished via a competitive pricing mechanism; it is something that government regulation has never come close to achieving or even contemplating.

The (Non-) Case for Taxicab Regulation

Regulators take it for granted that taxicabs must be regulated by government. For decades, New York City has been warning its residents against using the vast supply of illegal, unregulated “gypsy” cabs that prowl the streets. Customers are risking their money and their very lives, warn the regulators darkly. But the history of taxi regulation does not support the necessity of regulation.

Government regulation of business began at the state level in the second half of the 19th century with regulation of grain elevators. In 1887, the Interstate Commerce Commission was created to regulate railroads. Letters exchanged by the wealthy railroad owners at the time indicate that they intended to use the ICC to cartelize the industry, and that is indeed what happened. In the early 20th century, trucks were regulated because their competition threatened the freight-carriage business of railroads. Taxicabs were regulated because they threatened the business of streetcars, which lingered into the mid-20th century despite their technological obsolescence.

The pattern is clear. Regulation occurs not to cure the evils of competition but to protect incumbents from the effects of competition. In the vernacular of economics, regulation and competition are substitutes, not complements. This gives the lie to the pretense that regulation is supposed to polish and buff away the excesses, evils, flaws, mistakes and unsightly features of competitive capitalism. The purpose of regulation is to replace free-market capitalism with government control of markets.

To illustrate the flimsiness of the regulatory case, consider the “argument” advanced for taxicab regulation in the Bloomberg piece by – of all people – a professor of economics at Northwestern. “Traditionally, we had to have price regulation in cabs because when you are hailing a cab or standing in a taxi stand, you had to take the first car and you didn’t know the price in advance. You could be exploited.” Of course, all that price regulation does is to require all cabs to charge the same price – it doesn’t, in and of itself, inform the customer what that price is. That is accomplished by painting the fare on the outside of the cab. But that could be done under competitive pricing, too – and was in deregulated markets like Kansas City in the 1980s! In essence, the Northwestern economist was saying that a high monopoly price wasn’t “exploitation,” but the chance that a consumer might not know all possible prices charged by all companies was – even though most consumers undoubtedly don’t possess perfect knowledge of all prices. For this we need tenured professors of economics?

The Past and the Future

The history of taxicab regulation suggests that regulation produces bad current outcomes. But the inherent logic of regulation suggests that its effect on the future is just as bad through its discouraging impact on innovation. According to Bloomberg, “there’s a battle for the future of transportation being waged outside our offices and homes” involving “Uber and a collection of startups.” If regulators succeed in killing Uber and its imitators, their vast potential for economic growth will die in infancy.

The next EconBrief will review various new products and industries whose innovative benefits are similarly threatened by government regulation.

DRI-269 for week of 11-10-13: How Business Views Competition

An Access Advertising EconBrief:

How Business Views Competition

Every profession must endure the distortions resulting from the misshapen lens of public perception. Veteran economists know the specialized meaning of terms like “competition” and “efficiency.” They know the attitudes and mental habits formed by businessmen. And they know what happens when the mind of the businessman is forced to coexist with the vocabulary of economics. What happens is that the businessman perceives economics through the subjective prism of his own wants and expectations. This produces a view that is wrong in predictable ways.

By appreciating how intelligent, single-minded businessmen go wrong, we can better calibrate our own understanding with the truth. Recent published examples provide excellent case studies in the pathology of business misunderstanding of economics.

iK9 – Establishing “Standards” for the Detection-Dog Market

The current (11/4/2013) issue of Bloomberg Business Week tells the story of iK9, a detection-dog business started by a man named Tim Dunnigan. In the article “The Bomb Squad: Building an Empire on a Dog’s Nose,” author Josh Dean explains Dunnigan’s attempt to build a security firm around the olfactory talents of bomb-sniffing dogs.

Detection-dogs use their highly advanced sense of smell to locate everything from explosives to drugs to malignant tumors in humans. Their talent is inborn but requires extensive training and direction. Most of this training is done by individuals working alone or within small businesses, but one of the largest institutions devoted to this purpose is Auburn University’s Canine Detection Research Institute. This subsidiary of the university’s veterinary research school trains some 200 teams of dog and handler every year for corporate and government clients. Associate Director Paul Waggoner has perhaps the best view of the dog-detection market.

“Detection-dog training has been a vocation where most of the knowledge has been handed down in master-apprentice manner. That’s led to a lot of unproven ideas and ways of doing things,” Waggoner observes. “It’s still a young field,” a “trust-me” kind of business.

It’s no wonder, then, that “the detection-dog marketplace is fragmented, and no one knows for sure how large it is,” according to Josh Dean. Estimates range from $400 million to $700 million. So far, the big-ticket buyers have been government and the military, with private security a distant third. In principle, though, “any high-traffic location or corporate headquarters is vulnerable” to the threat of terrorism or criminal activity, so “the potential market is immense.” On the other hand, the service is quite expensive. Effective security requires round-the-clock surveillance and dogs need constant care and supervision. Demand has fluctuated wildly, skyrocketing after the 9/11 attacks and the Boston Marathon bombing but nosediving in between.

Tim Dunnigan’s business plan calls for reaching $200 million in revenue as quickly as possible. He projects about $300,000 in annual revenue from each dog-and-handler team, so his game plan requires employing hundreds of dogs and trainers. Competing in the marketplace poses special problems because the scope for cost-cutting is minimal; any reduction in quality could be fatal to the firm’s competitive position.

What is Dunnigan’s strategy for rising to this competitive challenge? According to author Dean, it would seem that Dunnigan is instead planning on cutting competitors down to his size. “As much as anything, Dunnigan’s strategy seems to be to raise the industry’s profile anddemand that anyone offering canine detection adhere to standards that have yet to be formalized [emphasis added]. One challenge, he says, is that ‘everybody thinks his technique is the best.'”

It is worthwhile noting that even the federal government – thus far the leading purchaser of detection-dog services – has so far feared to tread the line of standardization. “Detection dogs are such a freewheeling business that a U.S. government training standard does not exist among the many departments deploying them in the field,” Dean admits. The watchword of government is coercion and compulsion, so at first glance Dunnigan seems foolish for rushing in.

In a free market, Dunnigan is at liberty to promulgate whatever standards he chooses – for his own firm. He can advertise them in accordance with his inclinations and financial resources. He can contrast them with those of his competitors – or with those they lack.

But the phrase “demand that anyone offering canine detection adhere to standards” has a sound that is both familiar and worrisome to the veteran market watcher. It smacks of the classic American business strategy: get the government to suppress your competition. In this case, it would mean that Dunnigan is lobbying for passage of industry regulations that a fragmented industry of smaller operators would find costly and cumbersome. After all, they don’t have the resources of a CDRI or Auburn University to call upon. These regulations would raise costs in a highly competitive, low-margin industry. (“You wouldn’t believe how thin our margins are,” complains Paul Stapleton, son of the founder of MSA Security, pioneering private-security dog-detection firm and New York-market leader.) In turn, that would drive some firms out of business and reduce the supply of services, raising price for the remaining firms.

To the average person – the man or woman on the street, untrained in economics – a call for standards sounds innocuous and even praiseworthy. All of us have grown up hearing the phrase “the XYZ industry is not regulated by the government” used synonymously for “this industry is inhabited by dishonest, unscrupulous bastards who will take your money and your life without a second’s hesitation.” But to an economist, the “demand for standards” is seen in its true light – as a demand for regulation that will restrict competition at the consumer’s expense and for the benefit of one or a few firms in the industry.

Were we to summarize this rhetorical pathology, it would read as follows: “In order to protect buyers from being exploited by sellers, who may or may not possess mysterious means of providing this new and valuable service, standards of performance must be set. Obviously, these must be set by government because…because…well, because that’s just the way things are done. As a would-be leader in this field, I demand that government step in and set standards to save all of us sellers from succumbing to our own shortcomings.”

Evil Street Vendors

The great economist and multi-disciplinary theorist Thomas Sowell has specialized in exposing the logical shortcomings of conventional rhetoric. One of his most incisive exposes has been of the “powerful powerless” – groups of the lowly and disenfranchised whose economic prospects are customarily suppressed on the contradictory grounds that they somehow possess unfair advantages over ordinary people. Street vendors are charter members of this unfortunate fraternity.

The conventional case against street vendors was argued in a recent letter to The Wall Street Journal (11/11/2013). The author, one Jerome Barth, represents a New York business group called the 34th Street Partnership.

“The Journal has steadfastly defended street vendors in the past…It should follow from common free-market rules that this position is sound. However, in the case of street vending, it isn’t.” This stance is a backbone of the rhetorical practice known as “special pleading.” Free markets and competition, it grants, are wonderful things. They work beautifully – except in my particular case/industry/country/state/city/neighborhood. My case is special, exceptional. Why? Well…er…uh…because it’s mine.

“Street vendors are not necessarily the sign of a good economy or a good downtown. They are messy actors who usually have very poor aesthetics and offer a very uniform product of relatively low quality – when it isn’t counterfeit.” No doubt Mr. Barth would take strong exception if somebody referred to his colleagues in collective terms – “the 34th Street Partnership are sloppy businessmen with questionable ethics.” But he does not hesitate to herd all or most street vendors into one corral and brand them with the same iron. They don’t merely offer a uniform product; they offer a very uniform product! (In political rhetoric, nothing succeeds like excess.)

Of course, we all know that you just can’t trust vendors who sell uniform products of relatively low quality, like McDonald’s, White Castle, Wal Mart and Dollar Store. But it isn’t enough that the street vendors be pigeonholed as specialists in inexpensive, homogeneous goods – no, they must be stigmatized as crooks, counterfeiters. This is just another way of saying: “The customers of street vendors are complete idiots, since they cannot detect forgeries of the simplest, least complex goods; instead, they not only fall for the fakes but apparently keep coming back for more!” And since the customers of street vendors are the same people who patronize the downtown shops of the 34th Street Partners, Mr. Barth is stigmatizing his own customers and those of his colleagues.

“Further, they [street vendors] seldom follow rules, often don’t pay taxes, often exploit workers and leave messes behind.” Throughout the world, street vendors are the lowest of the low among businessmen. Often their net worth travels with them in the cart or wagon that dispenses their wares. The working capital with which they purchase tomorrow’s inputs is gained from today’s sales. But in Mr. Barth’s telling, these powerful powerless wield powers unknown to mortal businesses. They ignore laws, evade taxes, exploit workers – does this mean that a one-man hot dog vendor acting as entrepreneur exploits himself acting as laborer? Meanwhile, Mr. Barth would have us believe that police are the powerless ones. In reality, the police typically act in concert with Mr. Barth and colleagues to roust street vendors on the slightest pretext. Of course, nobody disputes that street vendors should pay taxes and respect property rights, and they possess no special rights or immunities that would prevent this.

“…The great retail places of the world…don’t have street vending or…limit it to products that enhance the street experience and have difficulty paying for storefronts (flowers, newsstands, shoeshine).” The criterion “products that enhance the street experience” is utterly subjective; it allows would-be cartels like the 34th Street Partnership to restrain trade and restrict competition while holding up a fig leaf of pretense by allowing vendors as long as they don’t compete with incumbent merchants. Any downtown habitué knows that flower stands, newsstands and shoeshine parlors do sometimes operate behind storefronts; this is merely the pretext under which the cartels grant them the special privilege denied to competing street vendors.

If there is even a tiny grain of truth in Jerome Barth’s case against street vendors, it would have to crystallize around the issue of spillover costs resulting from a transient vendor who cannot be traced and braced for costs of cleanup. Presumably, this was the rationale for Atlanta’s awarding a franchise rather than allowing open competition among street vendors (“…in the case of Atlanta’s concession of street vending to a single group. namely General Growth Properties”). However dubious this example and this practice may be, it serves to demolish whatever remains of Mr. Barth’s argument against street vending.

The outlines of this second anti-competitive rhetorical pathology are as follows: “Free markets are wonderful for everybody else, but not for me because my case is special. I am the helpless victim of invidious, evil forces beyond the reach of normal market competition. The law must suppress these competitive forces or they will destroy me. (The fact that these powerful evil forces consist of people who are otherwise the most powerless people in society is a paradox that I do not choose to address or even recognize.)”

It’s the Gypsy (Cab) in My Soul

Although both of the first two examples are recent, the attitudes displayed therein have been around for many years. A classic case amalgamating the two rhetorical stances involves the “gypsy” cab business. Gypsy (illegal) cabs operate throughout the world. Taxicabs are heavily regulated around the globe and gypsy cabs are linked to regulation the way pilot fish are attached to whales.

In its paradigmatic form, taxi regulation limits the number of taxis allowed to operate within a political jurisdiction and also prescribes the specific fare structure the taxis are allowed to charge. In effect, the governmental body regulating taxis functions as a cartel that blocks entry of new firms into the market. This limitation places an upward bound on the amount of taxi service that taxi consumers can receive, thereby bolstering the high price set by the regulators. In turn, this allows monopoly profits to be earned on the supply side of the market. Whether the beneficiaries of those profits are taxi firm owners or drivers or somebody else depends on various factors, some of which we will elaborate below.

New York City is the classic case of taxicab regulation resulting in monopoly profits and the proliferation of gypsy cabs. Beginning with the Haas Act in 1937, operators of New York City taxicabs were required to purchase medallions as emblems of licensure. During World War II, 1,794 of the original 13,566 medallions were returned to the city by entering servicemen. That left 11,772 outstanding medallions – a total that has not increased since then.

Meanwhile, the demand for taxicab service in perhaps the most tightly concentrated population in America continued to increase. There was no way to legally increase the size of the taxicab fleet and no way to legally raise the price of service. Thus, waits for service became intolerably long. Service to poorer neighborhoods deteriorated disproportionately, especially to ghetto communities where the risk of robbery and injury to drivers was thought to be higher. Eventually, local residents responded by reallocating private passenger vehicles to the service of commercial passenger transportation; they installed meters, top lights and lettering identifying the vehicle as a taxicab. These gypsy cabs found a plentiful market for their services inside the ghetto and even ventured into the larger community in search of business.

Sometimes private vehicles were conscripted to serve as livery vehicles or jitneys. In principle, livery vehicles are defined as for-hire transportation vehicles engaged via telephone or appointment only and not responsive to street hails. In practice, though, this distinction gradually blurred and the unmarked livery vehicles became de facto taxis. Individuals who contracted with grocery stores to provide exclusive “car service” for shoppers became the modern-day prototype for jitneys. With very few exceptions, these too have traditionally been illegal in America but have been tolerated by authorities beset by complaints about poor taxi service.

Why not simply open up the taxi business for competition? In New York City, the monopoly profits available in the taxi market have been reaped by owners of the medallions. Although it is the drivers who pocket the money derived from the high taxi fares, the value of those monopoly profits is capitalized into the price paid for the medallion. (The medallion is legally transferable, so a retiring driver can cash in his or her investment by selling the medallion to a prospective entrant into the business. The price of medallions fluctuates; it has often reached six figures over the years.) If the city were to suddenly allow free entry into the taxi business, the market value of those 11,772 medallions would suddenly fall to zero – and 11,772 medallion-holders would raise hell when their capital asset suddenly evaporated in their hands. Obviously, New York City politicians fear the volume of this outrage more than they welcome the more moderate gratitude that would flow in from taxicab consumers.

The official rationale for taxicab regulation dates back roughly a century, when the automobile was young and taxis competed with buses and streetcars. City government wanted to protect buses and streetcars from the competition of taxis. But they couldn’t very well say that they wanted to deny taxicab consumers the transportation services vital to their well-being. Instead, they used the same sorts of arguments that survive to this day in the official pamphlets and websites that warn against gypsy cabs.

A famous 1969 New York Times piece warned its readers that, by riding in a gypsy cab, “…you may be putting yourself in the care of a murderer, a thief, or even a rapist [!]. The gypsy driver, by the very fact that he solicits on the street, is at least a crook, but he may have big ideas which include you.” Of course, the inherent contradiction implied by this characterization is never broached. The very thing that makes the gypsy cab attractive is the possibility of earning money by transporting passengers. In order to do this, the vehicle must be made both conspicuous and distinguishable. But driving a big yellow vehicle marked with a number is not conducive to the successful commission of a crime, since it makes its driver both highly visible and easy to trace.

One would suppose that the prospect of traveling with crooks, rapists and murderers would deter prospective passengers of gypsy cabs, but evidence supports the conjecture that gypsy cab operations were and are “flourishing,” to borrow the characterization of black economist Walter Williams. Various estimates have been made of the gypsy cab influx within New York City. One Taxi and Limousine Commission chairman put forward the figure of 15,000, which would have made the gypsy cab business larger than the licit medallioned fleet.

This suggests that gypsy cabs are, in the aggregate, more beneficial than legal cabs. Throughout New York City, but especially in the ghettos and low-income areas, people dependent on commercial transportation are willing to use unauthorized means of transport rather than wait for hours on authorized transport that may never arrive. More pithily put by Wikipedia: “Passengers sometimes find illegal cabs to be more available, convenient or economical than licensed cabs.” Gypsy cabs are often cheaper than licensed cabs in absolute terms. If one thinks of a time delay in obtaining a cab as a form of higher price – foregoing time otherwise available for work or leisure, just as paying a money price entails foregoing alternative consumption goods or saving that could be enjoyed – gypsy cabs are clearly the lower-priced alternative to licensed taxicabs. Consequently, it is the legal taxicab industry that most assiduously demonizes gypsy cabs through propaganda such as that in the quoted New York Times piece above.

Seldom has reality been so at odds with rhetorical pretense as in the taxicab business, where the conventional thinking is bereft of any economic content. Expressing the conventional view compactly would yield something like this: “Crooks are people who violate the law. Gypsy cab drivers violate the law. Therefore, gypsy cab drivers are crooks. Crooks rob, rape and kill people. Therefore, gypsy cab drivers also rob, rape and kill people. You should be happy to wait hours for a licensed cab and pay its sky-high fare rather than risk robbery, rape and death in a gypsy cab.” As with the other rhetorical pathologies we exposed, this one is utterly without redeeming social value. It serves the interest of the taxi cartels and bureaucrats and nobody else.

Business and Competition

These few examples point to a great American truth. American business is devoted to the principles of free enterprise – but not to their practice. American business loves competition – for its rivals. The best way for a business to avoid facing competition is by removing competitors. The best way to remove competitors is by making them illegal or, alternatively, passing laws and regulations making it too costly for them to operate.