When we buy a bag of peanuts (“ingredients: 100% peanuts”), do we really need a warning – just in case we had a momentary memory lapse – that the bag “contains peanuts”? And do we really need the warning on plastic bags reminding us “this bag is not a toy”? (Well, actually in my youth it was a toy, along with an empty appliance box.) Is it because we are all dewy eyed cows in a pasture oblivious to the dangers that surround us? Or is there something sinister going on?
Gerald D. Skoning wrote in the American Spectator that, “Despite all the warnings in the marketplace, folks are injured, maimed, and even killed because of their own stupidity.” In the US, the most litigious society on earth, the rules of the government favour those hoping to make a quick buck. Companies have been sued successfully so many times for not having warning labels that they have to be overly-the-top-protective. To the point of parody.
On a package of children’s Benadryl, “avoid alcoholic drinks…be careful when driving a motor vehicle…if pregnant or breastfeeding…keep out of reach of children.” This is an antihistamine for children. A warning sticker on a Snow Flite (a plastic roll-up carpet sled): “Do not use on or near streets, roadways, driveways, sidewalks, near trees or obstacles, on steep slopes or icy conditions, serious injury or death could occur from these.” “No Taylor, inside on the living room floor. And put your helmet and goggles on. I don’t want to hear another peep about it.”
If you’re able to read .005 mm type, on a Bic lighter you are warned: “Ignite lighter away from face and clothing.” Even in an electric drill manual we need to be reminded: “Do not use a power tool while you are tired or under the influence of drugs, alcohol or medication. A moment of inattention while operating power tools may result in serious personal injury.”
For the rest of us who have a modicum of common sense, these warnings are sad. Skoning adds, “the seat belt alarms, door ajar buzzers, this vehicle-is-backing-up warning beepers, and the blizzard of warning labels are an insult to anyone with the IQ of a turnip.” [Let alone, a Daikon radish.]
In product liability law, marketing defects, known as “failure to warn claims,” are among the most common types of claims brought against manufacturers and sellers. Warning labels are critical pieces of evidence making or breaking the outcome of a product liability case. You were almost suffocated when you were playing with the plastic bag? Sorry, we warned you.
Manufacturers and sellers have a duty to warn. Not just to what might happen when someone uses their product properly but also to what might happen if someone doesn’t. On a box of Eddie matches: “Close box before striking.” The warning has to be specific about the potential risks and provide clear instructions on how to avoid them. “Do not use iron while wearing clothing.”
Those car sun shields that provide a privacy screen and protect your dashboard have a warning: “Do not drive with sun shield in place.” (I wish I read the warning before boarding the ferry one summer, it wasn’t pleasant.) In a court of law, “if misuse is foreseeable and not warned against, it may be considered a failure to warn.” Idiot proof. And the most ignored warning of all? On the box of Q-Tips: “Do not insert swab into ear canal.”
So, essentially manufacturers have to consider every conceivable, plausible, hare-brained, idiotic, stupid thing someone could do with their product and warn people accordingly. That’s insane. Consider the ubiquitous scrubby sponge. Warning! This is not a cosmetic applicator. Warning! This is not a toy. Do not leave with child unattended. Warning! Do not eat. Warning! Abrasive surface. Warning! Do not use as fire starter. Warning! May cause slippage when wet. Warning! Do not use as insulation. Warning! Choking hazard. Warning! This is not a flotation device. Warning! May contain crustaceans.
We are a sorry lot. Not only do we have to be saved, coddled and protected from the dangers we encounter, we need to have our hand held every step of the way. We require detailed instructions on everything. My partner bought a “fashion scarf,” with these complimentary steps attached: “hold one corner of the scarf (a) and grab the middle. Wrap around your neck (b) and adjust as needed.” If those instructions were too complicated, illustrations were provided. You wonder how women were wearing the scarf before. Tucked in waist (c) and wrapped around left wrist (d) while tossed over right shoulder (e)?
I bought a bird feeder the other day. Glad I read the “Filling Instructions” which helpfully reminded me to remove lid and then fill with seed and then replace lid and hang feeder. I would have been lost without those words of guidance. Now, where do I hang the feeder?
If it’s all about jackasses and liability, maybe we should just put this warning on everything: “Using while stupid may cause serious injury.”
