Pebble by Pebble...

As I've previously written (and as anyone who pays any attention at all to the world around them can see), the system is skewed, skewed in such a way that the rich get richer and the poor get poorer; skewed in such a way that even those who can see that something's rotten in the state of America are all but powerless to effect change. The example I'm going to write of today may seem trivial; it may seem but a tiny pebble compared to the other injustices which surround us every day, but stack enough pebbles up, and you soon have a mountain, a mountain of injustice ready to crash down on anyone with the hubris to pull a pebble from the heap. So be it.

A little over a month ago, Mel and I were crossing one of Portland's many bridges, on our way to a Lebanese restaurant downtown. We were unfamiliar with the area, so, while Mel navigated (reading from MapQuest directions), I drove across the bridge, switching lanes (as per the directions) in order to exit the bridge onto the street we needed. Unfortunately, both of us missed the overhead sign that read "Lane changes prohibited on bridge" (or something to that effect); the section of the bridge we were on was not pavement but metal grating, so there were no solid lines to indicate that lane changes weren't allowed. So although I was completely unaware of my infraction, the Portland police officer behind me was keenly aware of the traffic rules, and decided to rectify my ignorance by pulling us over. When he told me that I had changed lanes where doing so was prohibited, I did not argue-- I believed him, and readily (though not happily) accepted the ticket for my infraction. I was at fault; I missed the sign, and I changed lanes where I was not supposed to. So be it.

I didn't really look at the ticket until later that evening; I'd been pulled over before for nearly doubling the speed limit, so I figured an improper lane-change fee couldn't be that bad. I was wrong. The ticket was almost $250, more than any speeding ticket I've ever received (and I've had a few). I thought the amount far outweighed the infraction, and though I was not going to plead not-guilty, I considered going to court (rather than mailing in the fee, as I originally planned), just to see if there was any chance of lowering the fine. After all, even though I did change lanes where I was not supposed to, I didn't do so in an unsafe manner-- I had my blinker on, I waited for an opening in traffic, both Mel and I had our seat belts on, etc. I thought perhaps these mitigating circumstances might help to lower the egregious and disproportionate fine. We talked to some friends, and were told several anecdotes about fines being lowered if you show up in court instead of mailing in the fine.

So when the court date arrived, Mel and I both took a few hours off of work, put on our dress-clothes (to show "proper respect" for the court...something I never quite understood-- I always considered respect to be shown through actions, not fashion, but I was willing to concede on this occasion; there were other battles to fight), and hopped a train downtown. We arrived just as the courthouse opened, but already a throng of people spilled out onto the courthouse steps, waiting to get through the metal detector just inside the entrance. Once inside the building proper, we found ourselves waiting in another line-- a line hundreds of people long, filling the entire hallway. We were told that the traffic cashiers' computers were down, so things would be moving more slowly than usual. While waiting in line, I realized 2 things-- first, we were not going to see the inside of a court room; there would be no judge-- we would be pleading our case to a clerk, not a court. And second, after speaking with some of my fellow vehicular criminals in line, I knew we were going to get the fine reduced. At this point, I talked to the traffic-court employee who was trying to maintain order in the hallway, and showed her my ticket. She told me exactly what my fine would be reduced to. I didn't have to explain my mitigating circumstances, I didn't have to make any sort of argument whatsoever. If you simply show up to the courthouse, your fine is reduced by a set amount, no matter what the infraction, no matter whether the action was accidental or intentional, in fact, no matter what the circumstances were at all. When we finally made our way to the cashier, we handed her the ticket, I gave her my drivers license, and she reduced the fee to exactly what the woman managing the line said it would be.

One the one hand, I suppose I should be happy that my fine was reduced, even if it was only by about $40. But I wasn't happy. In fact, I was furious. Mel and I are lucky that we both work from home, and therefore have a certain amount of flexibility in our schedules. But what about the single mother who can't take the time off work to wait for hours in a line at the courthouse? What about anyone with a job during court hours, who cannot simply leave for an hour or two to get their fine reduced? Why is it that one class of people-- those with the time to go to the courthouse and wait in line-- are automatically granted a reduced fee, while those who are unable to take a two-hour chunk out of the middle of their work day are stuck having to pay the original (and absurdly disproportionate) fee? While standing in line and talking to my fellow offenders, I found out that the amount of our fine-- approximately $250-- seems to be the standard fine for vehicle infractions of just about any sort, from running a stop sign to improperly changing lanes. To me, this seems to be a ridiculously high amount, and it seems even more suspicious that just about everyone we talked to had the exact same fee, no matter what their infraction. Is this simply some way for the state of Oregon to make money? The more I thought about it, the more it seemed like a scam, and the more the automatic fine-reduction seemed like a kind of bribe, a way of saying "Ok, yeah, you're right; that amount is unfair...pay this instead." But that reduction (based solely on bureaucracy, entirely lacking in judgment) is available only to the select few, those "in the know", those who can take the time out of their work-day to come to the courthouse. For everyone else, for the single mother who gets paid by the hour and can't afford to leave work, they get stuck paying the full-- egregiously unfair-- amount.

I know some of you might think I'm blowing this whole thing out of proportion; that this is simply "how the system works". There, I agree. This is how the system works. The judicial system has done away with judgment, and replaced it with bureaucracy. Those who know the tricks, the loopholes, the ways to play the system, benefit, while those who do not or can not pick up the tab. In this instance, I happened to come out ahead, at least in monetary terms. But I find no solace in the fact. I saved myself $40, simply by showing up. Had it ended there, my story would just be another pebble of injustice, thrown upon the heap that grows ever skyward; an unstable, ever-shifting mountain of injustice, which will-- sooner or later-- bury us. But I don't want it to end there. I don't want to take my $40 and shut up, happy that I got a "break". I don't know if it will make any difference, but I wanted to show how even the small, seemingly benign loopholes in the system which benefit one group of people at the cost of another all add up, pebble by pebble, until one day, the mountain which the system has built comes crashing down to bury us all.

I don't know what I can do to change this, other than to share it with you. In this case, I benefitted from an unjust system, but unless those who benefit from this systematic corruption take a stand and speak out against it (such as Warren Buffet), the system will remain skewed. The rich will get richer, and the poor will get poorer, and the mountain of injustice will grow, pebble by pebble.