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Feb. 24, 2005
Copyright © Las Vegas Review-Journal
STEVE SEBELIUS: Behind the wheel with teenagers
Set aside, for a moment, the political machinations surrounding state Sen. Barbara Cegavske's bill to establish "graduated" teen driving licenses.
You know, the fact that she says she was told by a Democratic assemblyman that no bill with her name on it would ever pass the Assembly.
Assembly Democrats may very well have it in for the Republican senator from Las Vegas and her pet bill, which would make teens wait a little longer to get a learner's permit, and then go six months after getting a license before they could carry passengers (other than family members).
But there are plenty of reasons besides politics to reject Cegavske's efforts, begun in 1997, to establish for the first time a separate class of Nevada driver based on age.
The key question is: What does a license mean, anyway? Ostensibly, it's the state of Nevada telling you, your fellow drivers and the cops that you are officially certified to get behind the wheel and take your place in never-ending gridlock with the rest of us.
Or is it? Behind Cegavske's bill is the notion that, even with the required 50 hours of driving on a learner's permit, passing the DMV quiz and a road test, you're still not quite ready to drive with everybody else.
In reality, a license is little more than a revenue-generator for the state and an internal passport that must be presented to curious Ministry of State Security officers upon demand. It's not a guarantee that somebody knows how to drive. It's likely that virtually every person you see doing something stupid behind the wheel has a driver's license in his pocket.
But let's play along for fun, shall we?
Cegavske cites statistics that show teen drivers are more easily distracted, and that the biggest distraction is other teens in the car. Her bill does not target distractions such as cell phones, car radios, iPods, food, billboards or homeless people begging for money at roadside. All of those things can be as distracting -- if not more -- than talkative passengers. If she's really after distractions, she should move to ban those giant-screen TV-like signs outside major casinos. Drivers of all ages can get into crashes every day while watching the Jumbotron instead of traffic.
"I put the least amount in," Cegavske says of the restrictions on passengers. The more you ban, the more opposition you create, she said. "What we're trying to do is assist and help by not having the distractions."
If there's one important thing to come out of this debate, it may be the restoration of the requirement that high school students who want licenses take driver's education classes. Most schools have done away with the classes and eliminated the computerized driving simulators that are the first step between youth and the open road. (A separate bill, by Assemblyman William Horne, would restore driver education in schools, if the Legislature can find the money. Cegavske is a co-sponsor of the Horne legislation.)
Properly programmed, those simulators can give kids a taste of what it's like to drive in heavy traffic, on the freeway, in rain and snow, and at night. Follow up with real-world road tests, and 50 hours under a learner's permit, and those teen drivers should be ready to hit the road with all the rights of everybody else -- including the right to carry passengers -- the moment the ink dries on their license.
But back to politics. Cegavske says she doesn't know why the Democrats in the Assembly -- where she served from 1997 to 2001 -- apparently have it out for her. But she did call them out during a hearing on her bill.
"We owe parents and young people an apology for not passing this bill in 1997 and subsequent sessions. This has been partisan politics at its worst," Cegavske said at the hearing. She says she made the remark based on what she was told about her legislation being sent to the killing fields. But isn't it also possible that lawmakers just don't think it's a good idea? In that case, even if a handful of Democrats are gunning for her, it wouldn't be partisan politics as much as policy differences.
And we cynics can't help but note that Cegavske's bill targets teens -- who cannot vote -- and not, say, people older than 80, who vote in huge numbers. Cegavske says the statistics show teens are more easily distracted. But older drivers undoubtedly cause their share of accidents, too, as their skills start to erode. Where is the bill to require annual driver testing at age 80?
If teens are properly trained, either in school or in private classes, they shouldn't have to meet any additional requirements before they get full driving privileges. And there's nothing partisan about that.
Steve Sebelius is the Review-Journal's political columnist and author of the daily e-mail political newsletter the EARLY LINE. His column runs Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday. Reach him at 383-0283 or SSebelius@reviewjournal.com.
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