Conversations with Consumers

If you’re a close watcher of the CPSC Commissioner’s Statements page (and, really, who isn’t?) you may have noticed that my good friend and colleague Commissioner Adler and I have had another round on our perpetual motion statement ride. Back when we took the vote on our lead standard, we got a glimpse of this dynamic, as Commissioner Adler waited a couple weeks after the vote and my written statement explaining my vote, then issued a statement of his own, directly attempting to rebut the arguments I made in my statement.  He has done the same thing with respect to the recently-issued Testing Rule.  We are now on our third round of statements responding to each other.

As I have pointed out, I believe that the purpose of a commissioner’s written statement is to explain why a commissioner voted in a particular way.  If we use our statements as vehicles to respond to arguments made in other written statements, then the commissioner who writes last has the last word.  By using statements to explain ourselves, rather than directly to rebut others, we can guarantee that we do not find ourselves where we are now, trapped on a spinning merry-go-round.

Commissioner Adler does not share this view. In his most recent addition to the dialogue, he explained his rationale. He views these statements as an opportunity for “robust discussion and debate on the critical policy issues that come up before the Commission.” Discussion and debate are wonderful things, but, with all due respect, the time for them is before a vote. That way, the discussion actually has a chance to shape the policy issues. Statement after statement after the fact provides no such opportunity.  It risks becoming repetitive very quickly with the potential for descending into the petty.

The astute reader will no doubt be asking why I have responded to Commissioner Adler’s statements—both the Supplemental and the Further Supplemental—if I believe the entire exercise is such a misuse of the forum. The answer is simple: Unilateral disarmament may be noble, but it looks the same as surrender. If I don’t respond to Commissioner Adler’s arguments, no matter how fallacious they are, it will appear that I have conceded them. That is not so, and it would be inconsistent with my public policy role to allow such a misconception to exist.

That reality—that a Commissioner cannot let the conversation be one-sided, even if she feels it is hopelessly misplaced—is precisely why the CPSC statement format works best when it is kept to an explanation of the author’s perspective and decision. If we all stick to that approach, we give the public a clear, concise view of the arguments surrounding each CPSC action (or inaction) and an opportunity to provide informed comment on future debates on similar issues. If just one of us abandons this approach, we will all be inevitably sucked into a potentially endless exchange that leaves the reader confused, annoyed, or both.

I love Lambchop, but The Song That Never Ends is best sung on children’s television, not by the leadership of a Federal agency.

Government shouldn’t be in the trap door business. The idea is to let people know what the law is, so that we have the moral ground to penalize violations. I’m worried the CPSC’s looming testing and certification rule has at least one giant trap door built in, and it creates opportunities for abuse. 

Along with initial and material change testing by an independent third party testing lab, this rule tells manufacturers to third-party test each product periodically for as long as it’s sold. What worries me is how we’ve structured the periodic testing.

Our rule tells manufacturers to third-party test at least once a year, or once every two years if they have production testing, or once every three years if they have their own lab certified by ISO. That sounds simple enough, but we’ve left a trap door.

Those intervals are ceilings, but the rule doesn’t have a floor. Manufacturers may have to test much more often than what is outlined above, but we’re going to put all the risk on them for making the right judgment call. What the rule actually says is that products need to be tested often enough to give a “high degree of assurance” of compliance, and then it gives ten factors – all of them judgment calls – we think manufacturers should consider.

This creates a situation where a well-intentioned manufacturer could set an interval it thinks is appropriate based on our factors. Then, when we step in to investigate an issue, we get to decide on our own with the benefit of 20/20 hindsight if that was good enough, with no limits on our discretion.

The obvious uncertainty that means for manufacturers is bad enough, but, worse, it’s an avenue for abuse. When a manufacturer – again, trying to do things the right way – is negotiating with us the remedies for a problem, including monetary penalties, we could stack on extra “violations” for its failure to read our minds accurately on the testing interval.

My colleagues have told me my fears aren’t real, and there’s no way we would use our rule like this. If that’s the case, why write it this way at all? Why not just make it clear: If you don’t do production testing and don’t have an ISO-certified lab and you third-party test at least once a year, you’re fine; if not, you’re in violation of this aspect of the rule. Period. No mind reading. No guessing games. No trap doors. Just a clear rule and clear enforcement, the way it’s supposed to be.