red tape

Models That Shatter: Air Crashes, Dental Bills, and the Burden of Bad Ideas

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Last time around, I dismantled the myth of indestructible buildings—people dream of granite fortresses, their mental models blind to necessary trade-offs—meanwhile ballooning the cost of new construction and keeping more people are stuck in older less safe buildings.  That same flawed thinking now fuels a frenzy over air disasters and my wife’s legitimate grumble over dental bills and paperwork that could choke a horse.  Whether it’s planes plummeting or crowns now costing thousands, folks cling to busted models—piles of regulations, their wild conspiracies, or broken systems—that splinter when reality bites. In my truss design world, I double-check software because it’s half-baked; we should also scrutinize the narratives and red tape the same way, and not add more wreckage.

Air Disasters and the Partisan Haze

The wacky left, not to be outdone by the kook conspiracy right, keeps blaming air disasters on deregulation. Start with January 29, 2025: a Bombardier CRJ700, American Airlines Flight 5342, slammed into an Army Black Hawk over D.C.’s Potomac River, claiming 67 lives. Then a Canadian Dash 8 skidded off a snowy Quebec runway—no deaths, but headlines aplenty. 

Now the April 10, 2025, Bell 206L-4 chopper crash in New York’s Hudson River, six gone, including Siemens exec Agustín Escobar and his family. X posts scream Trump’s crew gutted FAA rules. Never let truth get in the way of a partisan narrative, right? But the facts don’t bend. D.C. hit nine days into his second term—too soon for policy shifts to ripple. The Hudson chopper passed a March 1, 2025 inspection, clean as a new nail. NTSB points to D.C.’s air traffic staffing woes, Canada’s pilot error, New York’s likely mechanical failure—not slashed budgets.

Stats cut the haze. FAA data shows U.S. aviation incidents down since 2020, though Potomac’s toll spiked fatalities. Crashes in media hubs like D.C. or NYC feel like a deluge, but it’s perception, not reality. I’ve seen this hysteria before—folks panicked over food processing fires, but as someone who supplies building components we see many ‘fire jobs’ and not a surge.  Fires due to hot bearings, bad wiring, heaters or dust are quite common and to be expected.  The funny thing none of these food processing fire alarmists reported on the new feed mill near me—non-confirming news doesn’t go viral.  

Then the tinfoil-hat crowd spins BlackRock plots because Escobar was aboard. What are the chances a Siemens exec’s on a chopper? Pretty high, honestly—they’re the ones dropping $500 a seat, not me touring the harbor for free, with my family, on the  Staten Island Ferry. BlackRock’s got stakes everywhere; a link’s no bombshell. As far as the in-flight breakup of the Bell helicopter, my pilot brother snorted, “Never buy an air frame that does 30+ takeoffs and landings per day.”  That is to say there’s a difference between a vehicle with highway miles and the one used as a weekend racer.  Seized gearbox or stress fractures, not sabotage. The SEAL pilot’s fuel call was logistics, not a scream. Yet they weave a blockbuster rather than look at a shop log.

This echoes the indestructible building myth—deregulation won’t make planes drop tomorrow, nor do cabals rig bolts. More FAA rules don’t sharpen mechanics’ wrenches, just like overbuilt trusses don’t scoff at storms. That ELD mandate for trucks?  It jacked costs, no safer roads. D.C.’s staffing gaps brewed for years; New York’s airspace is a madhouse, and always has been. Good design—trusses or aviation—leans on more clarity: sharpen skills, focused goals, while also acknowledging the risk baked in. Pilots should scan skies, not bury their heads in binders. But folks expect oceans to swallow us if one desk job’s cut, their models deaf to reality’s groan.  Failures aren’t a secret plot nor will more rules prevent them all.

Healthcare’s Paperwork Quagmire

That same broken model—thinking more rules fix it all—bleeds us dry in healthcare, where compliance piles up and costs push higher.  My Filipino wife got sticker shock: Over $2,000 for a crown!  What???  Her gut said yank the tooth, but the doc—and me—aren’t keen on losing one of those original equipment food grinders. Before we hit the chair, she was annoyed by those butt-covering forms—shields for liabilities (“We asked about novacaine allergies!”) and traps to hunt you down if you don’t pay their yacht lease. 

Earlier this year, my son’s middle school emailed another form, they’re playing dental cop to prove his exam. We lucked out—they took our word his Philippines checkup happened, sparing me need to send their paperwork to Baguio for my in-laws to wrangle.  There, we’d stroll into a clinic, no appointment, $20 for a cleaning or filling. Ain’t swanky, but it’s sterile, does the job, and fits a $8/day wage world. Here, insurance bloats costs like student loans—dentists hike prices ‘cause the check’s guaranteed.  The poor folks get Medicaid, rich get their implants—me: never had dental insurance in my life, other than my couple year subscription to a scam “discount” that did squat unless I was already shelling out.

Since the Affordable Care Act (ACA) was turned into law, healthcare costs per capita soared from $10,620 in 2010 to $14,570 in 2023—37.2% up, inflation-adjusted, per CMS. Life expectancy sagged, 78.7 to 77.5 years, says CDC, while costs kept climbing. Rather than keep your own doctor was the promise, choice is diminished.  Big players like UnitedHealthcare—had controlled 15% market share, Statista—grew hungrier and doubled it.  Locally, Evangelical Community Hospital is now under WellSpan, and Geisinger sold to Kaiser Permanente, a $95 billion beast, both 2023 deals. Less choice, more denials, like truss software spitting out only one overpriced and deficient design.

https://paragoninstitute.org/paragon-pic/american-life-expectancy-fell-for-three-straight-years-after-acas-key-provisions-took-effect/

It is easy to forget the undemocratic way the ACA was formed. It was rushed to get around the results of a special election that would cost Democrats their filibuster-proof Senate. The Democrat Congress rammed through a trainwreck bill to circumvent their loss of Ted Kennedy’s seat.  The last thing we needed, in healthcare, was another layer of management.  Upset Americans—54% of the country wanting repeal—rose up in the mid-terms in opposition to this government takeover of their healthcare choice. 

Unfortunately the oligarchy won and we were stuck with a deeply flawed bill, sold with lies, passed in the dark of night, that nobody wanted—results in more mergers while costs continue to explode.

Obama, getting creative to deal with the botched rollout of HealthCare.gov, created what was called United States Digital Service to fix the issues. This basically gave the Executive Branch a backdoor access to the newly minted government agency that was convenient for the Democrats at the time it was formed. And this, ironically, is now what gives DOGE the authority to do what they have been doing over the past few months.  Whether you see DOGE as a phoenix rising from the ashes or a monster coming from the abyss—you have Obama to thank for it. 

It’s like engineers, for compliance, ditching practical talks for nonsense specs that lead to an incoherent mess of conflicting interpretation—it produces more hassle for everyone downstream, not a sturdier roof or better structure.  This compliance Kabuki—fancy waiting rooms, school nurse cops—doesn’t make better teeth or safer streets, it just bloats our bills and increases our taxes for nothing in return. Philippines clinics run lean on cash, keep it real. Here, we’re buried under a pile of paper. 

Good design—trusses, planes, healthcare—cuts the fat, bets on need of good judgment over more forms.  Models that preach more rules will save us or seeing secret plots are as off as thinking properly engineered roofs can never cave.   The FAA didn’t fix Boeing’s focus on DEI over properly installed bolts in doors and the ACA only added to the cost of healthcare.  We must quit chasing fixes that will only add more dead weight to an already strained structure—and ask: what’s propping this whole mess up? And why’s it heavy enough to crush a man’s soul?

A Different Blueprint: Stripping Away the Myths

Things on the periphery are tough to flesh out, like trying to find out what is happening beyond the event horizon of a black hole. We all live in this big bubble—a commonly shared safe space—where folks will bicker over set topics, blind to how both sides are tangled in a bigger myth. The structures we take for granted, holding us up, are just assumptions we gotta question. These bad models—rules to save planes, forms to fix teeth—are flawed assumptions like thinking buildings never fall. If we want to see reality clear, we’ve got to strip away these biases, prejudices, blind spots, layer by layer. That’s my design philosophy: ask silly questions, and then take ‘em seriously. I mean, why don’t banks handle healthcare instead of employers? Why can’t we get checkups at the local bar? No rule says payers have to be governments or bosses.

Most folks can’t see past their battle lines, let alone a third path. But if we look beyond the forms we know, we might find a better way. It’s about exploring our foundations—digging into the functional fixedness of old ideologies, dusty processes, and our creaky systems. In truss work, I don’t simply trust software math ‘til I test it; in life, and I don’t buy models ‘til I poke ‘em. We can do better by imagining something different—say, healthcare that’s cash-simple, like Baguio, or an aviation culture that trusts pilots over paper. Models preaching conspiracy plots or encouraging more red tape are as wrong as thinking roofs don’t cave. 

In Japan, the electronic toll system on the Tomei Expressway and other routes crashed for 38 hours across Tokyo and six prefectures. The toll gates froze, smart interchanges shut, congestion piled up. And the operator, Central Nippon Expressway Company, had no fix in sight, so they threw open the gates, let drivers pass free, and simply asked them to pay later online. Most places, you’d expect folks to floor it and forget it. But over 24,000 drivers—some say 28,000—went online and paid up, no cops, no fines.  An honor system.

The test of civilization?

That’s not just a country; that’s a different approach to problem solving. They didn’t lean on a coercion model—chasing violators or piling on rules. The culture is what made the difference.  They could trust people to square up and people did. It’s a glimpse of what happens when you question our own status quo.  Why are our systems so heavy, so distrustful, in the first place?  Why does a Christian nation need government to solve all problems yet Japan does not?  This may be a difference between our individualistic frontier mindset and their group harmony formed of rice cultivation.  But it’s also the communal approach of Amish as well.

Mutual aid in Amish country is organic, not institutionalized, they don’t need bulky and wasteful organizations.  They have built an identity together (like the Japanese have) and thus they voluntarily go along with the program.  This may sound stifling, but is it really?  Americans pay a boatload of taxes so that their bought off national leadership can bomb Gaza’s hospitals.  Did we ever vote for that?  No.  The general public is just as indoctrinated and controlled by ideologies as a strict religious sect.  The big difference is that Amish get their barn back days after a fire whereas the rest of us will spend the year sifting through insurance paperwork. 

It isn’t just the Amish who self-organize for sake of immediate needs in their community.

A sustainable future requires effective and efficient resource allocation that does not rely on costly bureaucracy or enforcement agencies.  Governance is best internalized—something we do voluntarily as part of our collective identity or being part of a larger group.  This will require discarding models and myths that aren’t beneficial.  This idea that the world’s problems are either solved by some undefined ideal regulatory regime or are all caused by it’s evil twin of a secret world spanning scheme is simply fantasy that prevents reasonable discussions and pushes away from solutions that will better harness our human potential.

Cooperation doesn’t need to be top down or cumbersome and artificial.  No, love for our own and self-sacrifice love is as coded into human DNA as conflict.  And we should be taking a closer look at Japanese and Amish blueprint.  Honor, a common code of ethics, shared cultural values, an internalized joint identity and being respectful to others can’t outsourced.  Diversity is only strength when it harmonizes and follows the same tune.  It is a combination of building a familial trust, deeper human relationships, and a societal mission that is worthy of fuller investment—not more programs, systems and rules.  

The Myth of an Indestructible Building

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It was November 29, 1900, and fans filled the stadium in San Francisco for the annual Thanksgiving Day game between California Golden Bears and Stanford Cardinal. Some, not wanting to pay the entry fee (one dollar then, $40 in today’s money), climbed on a nearby glass factory roof to get their view of the action on the field.

The newly built factory roof collapsed about twenty minutes into the game. One hundred people fell as it gave way and plunged four stories down—many landing on the 500° F oven below. It was a horrific scene. Young people being cooked alive. What happened? The building roof wasn’t designed to hold a mass of spectators. It failed. Those who had climbed up were oblivious or did not have enough concern for the stress they were adding to the structure.

This tragedy wasn’t just a failure of design; it revealed a deeper misconception that buildings should be invincible, a myth that shapes our reactions to collapses even today. It goes further than engineering or physical buildings as well. Our models of reality are oversimplified at best and flat-out wrong in too many cases.

There is a common misconception and an unrealistic expectation about structures—many people seem to assume they are like blocks of granite. From those who believe that every building collapse is a conspiracy to those who think every failure demands stricter government regulations, the myth of an indestructible building continues due to a lack of understanding of engineering and the limitations.

Design Limits Are Not Defects

One key misunderstanding is design limits. Engineering is not about making a building too strong to ever fail. Unless we’re talking about the Great Pyramids, it’s all about trying to meet certain established parameters. An engineered building is designed to meet the expected conditions as defined by regional building codes. If the wind, snow, or loads exceed the designated standards, then there will likely be a collapse.

Earlier this year, after a heavy snowfall in upstate New York, many buildings had their roofs cave in (including this fire hall) because the weight of the snow was that much greater than the design weight. Sure, most engineers build an extra safety margin into their components, but eventually these limits are too far exceeded and you’ll end up with a tangled mess. This is why there are sideline roof shoveling businesses in these places where large snow accumulations are a regular occurrence.

Sure, code could force people to build to a much higher standard, making a collapse due to snow load virtually impossible. But this would increase the costs so much that it would price many people out of building a new house or barn. Engineering is all about compromise, more precisely about making the right compromises given the expected conditions. Yes, there is a case for making adjustments based on observation or after studies, but ultimately we build for what will work most of the time.

More Is Not Always Better

In the aftermath of the earthquake that had struck Myanmar and neighboring Thailand, there was a comment made to me in a chat hoping for more layers of regulation. This is a sentiment, in the specific context of rapid development of Bangkok, that seems more reflexive than reflective. It is a progressive impulse to believe that more interventions and rules are the answer.

The collapse of an unfinished tower in Bangkok, during the earthquake, sparks questions about building codes.  Was it missing sheer walls?  Did the contractor rush to ‘top it off’ quickly?  I want to know what the investigation finds.

But, for me, as someone who works in the construction industry and has occasionally needed to sift through these layers, I could not disagree more. Sure, better regulations may be needed. However, legalism doesn’t work in building standards any better than it does in churches. Sure, you need a code of some kind. And yet onerous regulation will add to the cost of construction, not necessarily improving the end results, and only making new housing less accessible.

It is, at best, the same trade-off discussion we can have about self-driving cars and the need for LIDAR. Sure, this expensive laser ranging system may marginally improve the results, but at what cost? Self-driving cars with cameras alone are already safer than human drivers. Keeping these systems at a price that is affordable will save more lives than pricing them out of reach for average people. It is, therefore, optimal to rollout the less expensive and safer tech even if it could be slightly improved.

At worst there is only more expense and no benefit to more layers of red tape. The real problem with rules is that they are written in language that needs interpretation. Unlike a classroom theoretical setting, in the real world you can’t just memorize the correct answers and pass the test. The ability to make a judgment call is far more important than adding to the pile of regulations. More rules can mean the more confusion and the truly critical matters get lost in the mess.

I see it over and over again, when different customers send the same job for a quote and all of them interpreting the engineering specifications their own way. It is the tire swing cartoon, a funny illustration of when the customer wants something simple and yet the whole process distorts the basic concept until it is unrecognizable. That is where my mind goes when we talk about adding layers. Is it increasing our safety or merely adding more points of failure?

This one stuck with me and should be standard equipment in every design department.  I first saw it as a child while visiting the engineering department of the construction company my dad worked for.

Some of it is just that some people are plain better at their jobs than others with the very same credentials. I am impressed by some engineers, architects, contractors, and code officers—not so much by others. I’m willing to bet the intuition of some Amish builders is probably more trustworthy than a team of engineering students’ textbook knowledge, full of theory, with no real or practical world experience. In the end any system is only ever as good as the users.

Theory Is Not Reality

My work relies on truss design software. I enter information and it does those boring calculations. When I started, I assumed that it was more sophisticated than it really is. I thought every load was accounted for and nothing assumed. But very soon the limits of this tool started to reveal themselves. It is only as accurate or true to reality as the engineers and developers behind it—and on the abilities of the user (me) understanding the gaps in the program.

When it comes to mental models—the kind of physics involved in engineering—only a few people seem able to conceptualize the force vectors. Things like triangulation, or compression and tension loads, are simply something I get. Maybe from my years of being around construction or that curiosity I had, as a child, that made me want to learn what holds a stone arch up or why there are those cables running through that concrete bridge deck. My model was built off of this childhood of building Lincoln Log towers (arranging them vertically) and occasionally making mini earthquakes.

I’m exasperated by this expectation that people have for skyscrapers to be indestructible or to topple over in the same manner of a tree—as if they’re a solid object. It also seems that the big difference between static and dynamic loads is lost on most people. They don’t understand why a building could start to pancake, one floor smashing the next, or how twisting due to extreme heat could undermine the structural integrity of a building without ever melting the steel. Of course this has to do with their beliefs or mistrusts that are not related to engineering—nevertheless it shows their completely deficient understanding of how the science works.

The concept in their head is off, their brain modeling is inaccurate, and their resolution may be so low they simply can’t grasp what the reality is. You try to explain basic things and their eyes glaze over—sort of like when Pvt. John Bowers tried to explain why the plants need water, and not the electrolytes in Brawndo, in the movie Idiocracy. Ignorant people will scoff before they accept a view different from their model of the world. The theory they believe rules over all evidence or better explanation.

On the other side are those who trust every established system without understanding it. They “believe science” and see more as an answer to every question. More rules, a larger enforcement apparatus, faith in their experts, without any feel for the problems encountered by the professionals or those in the field. If they had, they would question much more than they do. Human judgment is still at the base of it all. Or at least that is what the lead engineer told me while we discussed the limits of software and the need to be smarter than the tool.

Not even AI can give us the right balance of efficiency in design versus safety factor or what should be written in the code. It may be a better reflection of our own collective intelligence than any individual, but our own limits to see the world how it actually is are not erased by the machines we create. We are amplified, never eliminated, by the tools we create. So we’ll be stuck wrestling with our myths and theories until we take a final breath—only our flaws are indestructible.

Models of a Messy World

If truss software taught me anything, it’s that no model nails reality perfectly—not beams, not buildings, not life. We lean on these frameworks anyway, because the world’s too wild to face without a map. But just like those fans on that San Francisco roof in 1900, we often climb onto flimsy assumptions, mistaking them for solid ground. The myth of an indestructible building is just one piece of a bigger distortion: we think our mental models—of faith, of power, of people—are unshakable truths, when they’re really sketches, some sharper than others, of a reality we’ll never fully pin down.

Misconceptions can have deadly consequences.

Take religion. For some, it’s a cathedral of certainty, every verse a load-bearing beam explaining why the world spins. Others see it as a rickety scaffold, patched together to dodge hard questions. Both are models—ways to grapple with life’s big “why.” Politics is messier still. It’s like designing a city where everyone’s got their own codebook. One side swears by tight regulations, convinced they’ll keep the streets safe. Another group demands open plans, betting that freedom builds stronger foundations. Both sides act like their own ideological model is bulletproof, shouting past each other while the ground shifts—economies wobble, climates change, and people clash.

Then there’s prejudice, the shoddiest model of all. It’s like sizing up a beam by its color instead of its strength. Prejudice, always a shortcut to save us from the effort of real thought, fails because it’s static, blind to the dynamic load of human individuals. Good perception, like good engineering, adjusts to what’s real, not what’s assumed.

All these—religion, politics, prejudice—come down to how we see. Perception’s the lens we grind to make sense of the blur. Some folks polish it daily, questioning what they’re fed. Others let it cloud over, stuck on a picture that feels safe but warps the view. I think of those fans in 1900, not asking if the roof could hold them. They didn’t mean harm—they just saw what they wanted: a free seat, a clear view. We do the same, building lives on models we don’t test, whether it’s a god we trust, a vote we cast, or a snap judgment we make. The distortion isn’t just in thinking buildings won’t fall—it’s in believing our way of seeing the world is indestructible.

What makes a model reliable? Not that it’s right—none are. It’s that it bends without breaking, learns from cracks, holds up when life piles on the weight. In construction, we double-check measurements because we know plans lie. In life, we’d do well to double-check our certainties—about the divine, the ballot, the stranger next door. The San Francisco collapse wasn’t just about a roof giving way; it was about people trusting a picture that didn’t match the world. We’re still climbing those roofs, chasing clear views on shaky frames. Maybe the only thing we can build to last is a habit of asking: what’s holding this up? And what happens when it falls?