America is a nation divided. Red versus Blue. Conservative versus Liberal. Holy Rollers versus Bible Bashers.
They're at loggerheads over abortion, gun control, censorship, gay marriage, the war in Iraq, the death penalty and stem cell research. All emotive and widely covered topics, but the biggest killer of Americans between the ages of 5 and 27 goes unmentioned by either faction.
The automobile, the only true weapon of mass destruction, goes about its merry way every single day, quietly slaughtering thousands and nothing is done to curb its deadly force. The reason? America was designed around the car and the death toll is considered a tragic but necessary by-product of its citizen's right to personal mobility. The nation shrugs its shoulders and looks the other way. Accidents happen. It's not news anymore.
To be fair, it's not that cars and trucks that kill, it's the people who drive them. To Americans, driving is not a privilege or skill that needs to be mastered.
Because you simply have to have a vehicle to get anywhere, it's considered a right. You turn 16, you get a licence and that's all there is to it. A driver's licence is little more than a form of identification now - it's simply assumed that you have one and if you try to present a passport or a European licence instead there's widespread confusion and the manager is called from his office to verify your documentation.
This blasé attitude to driving isn't an overnight phenomenon. It's the US Department of Transport has had its head in the sand for the past 50 years.
In Europe, it dawned on most governments a long time ago that driver training might be a good way of preparing people for the dangers of the open road. Strict guidelines were implemented to train drivers before letting them loose. As a result, countries such as Sweden have just 1 death per 10,000 vehicles registered.
America has a death rate of twice that. It's no surprise, really considering that driver training in the US is practically non-existent and the driving test is pretty much a joke.
I know this first hand because I recently got sick of explaining to bouncers what "Eire" was and decided to get myself an American driver's licence.
When I did my Irish driving test back in 1997 I took six pre-test lessons. I spent days pouring over the rules of the road and drove around in my Dad's Fiesta for hours, practising for the big event.
Passing my test didn't radically alter my driving habits but it did, at least, show me how one should drive in an ideal world. It also made me aware of many rules of the road that I would otherwise never have known.
Not that the Irish test is anything special. In Switzerland, for example, you have to be 18 years old to get a learner licence. There's a 10-hour first aid course and eight hours of obligatory theory before they even give you a provisional. The driving test itself can be taken only three times and, if you fail it a third time, you are required to consult a psychologist who will decide if you are mentally fit to drive. As you might expect, Swiss drivers are ordered, disciplined and safe. 50 km/h means 50 km/h. Not 51. Not 60.
The American test is so easy that drivers need no idea of the rules of the road. To them, 50 means 80. Red means go. And you're not really drunk if it's just beer.
THE first step to getting my Texas licence was to complete a theory test that I almost failed because, stupidly, my head was full of road-signs and braking distances when a disproportionate number of the questions involved the penalties for underage drinking. Clearly, this part of the test isn't so much aimed at educating drivers as lecturing teenagers.
Still, I got 22 out of 28 questions right and that's good enough to pass over here. The motorcycle theory test comprised of only 15 questions - I tripped up on just one, again related to underage drinking.
So, with the theory exams completed, I was ready for my practical tests the following afternoon. No year-long wait for a driving test here - such delays simply wouldn't be tolerated.
My driving test involved reversing into a parking spot, negotiating a couple of blocks of residential neighbourhoods and returning to the test centre without hitting anything or falling asleep - all in around nine munutes.
My motorbike test was as farcical - a few low speed manoeuvres and two emergency stops was all it took to convince the examiner I was a safe and capable rider.
The highest speed I achieved in either test was 50 km/h and I never got out of third gear. But that was good enough to get my licence, which means I'm now legally entitled to drive anything up to 11,000 kg with fewer than 24 seats. I can ride any motorbike I want - a 160 bhp, Suzuki GSX-R1000 will do quite nicely, thanks.
Apart from making it possible to prove my adult status to the local security beefcakes, my new licence also made me understand that all those SUV drivers thundering down the highway at 120 km/h in torrential rain, the people who jump red lights, the folks who ignorantly block intersections, the habitual speeders and the sheer number of people careering around drunk as Russian sailors on shore leave - they all act this way because they simply don't know any better. Without a proper test why bother learning the rules?
To compound matters, the nation whose drivers are least qualified to drive have the biggest, fastest and heaviest vehicles available anywhere in the world and, with no public transport to speak of, they're utterly dependent on the beasts they can barely control. This might seem like a recipe for disaster and indeed it is, with the road accident fatality rate running at 117 people per day in 2003. That amounted to 42,643 in total, which equates to one death every 12 minutes. That's pretty ironic, actually, because 12 minutes is actually more time than it takes to complete the driving test in the U.S.
This ongoing sham doesn't get one column inch in the press. It seems America's disgraceful road safety situation is a hot potato that nobody wants to handle.