If there is one thing my kindly editor likes, (Ed: er…what?) it is op eds on the current situation in Washington, D.C. I’m sure he wants my thoughts on Mr. Trump and his upcoming impeachment (Ed: no, not really). He really wants me to write on Trump because there are only about 716 other columnists writing about the president and his 80-plus-tweet weekend. My editor really, really likes it when I comment on the goings on in D.C. and ignore Colorado Politics (Ed: look, we’ve talked about this…). But today I must disappoint him, as I intend to muse about what’s happening in our fair state. (Ed: well, that took a while, but ok).

Regular readers may recall my repeated rants on the importance of honor and honesty in all things, but especially in public works. So I could write my Tuesday column about the story in CP about the recently shuttered effort to recall Gov. Jared Polis (in hopes of undoing an election only six months after he took office), and that organization’s “ooppsie” when they apparently passed out leftover campaign funds to some of the folks involved in the effort. Or I could write about gun owners and the Red Flag law. Or I could try to sneak one by my kindly editor and write on Trump (Ed: don’t even think about it)

But instead, I will rail on a bit about a different story – taking the bus.

It’s been a very long time since I’ve taken the bus. I have a car, and I can drive myself where I need to go. When I was working up at the AF Academy, I drove up there every morning, and drove home every night. But for many people, that simple act is not an option, which is why Caitlin Curley’s article is an important one for everyone in Denver and the Front Range, and not just the folks who queue up daily for a ride.

It seems the Regional Transportation District is finding that revenues are falling well short of costs. The agency reports that in 2018 it took in $143 million, while costs were $777 million. They are looking at deficits of roughly $12 million each year from 2026 to 2040. It would seem they have a poor business model, and they need to raise fares or cut services or reduce assets. That just makes sense, right?

Well…

Many years ago, in college, I read the story of a village in South America with too many cats (Ed: dude…). They were becoming bothersome, so the village elders set about reducing the cat population. They were successful in essentially wiping out feral cats and all was well and good, until their houses fell down. 

It seems the cats had been eating the rats, upon which lived fleas and other vermin. In that vermin group was a type of bug that ate, primarily, starches such as the straw thatch used to make the homes in the village. Wipe out the cats, the rats flourish, as do the critters that live on them, and bang, your house falls down. The point of that story was to stress both the interconnectedness of communities, and the dangers of overlooking those connections. In my old world of teaching political science, we talked about the “tragedy of the commons,” wherein those aspects of society that are seen as owned by everyone, such as the taxpayers, are the “commons” in which we do business, recreate (parks), and otherwise enjoy life. The problem is that no one has direct responsibility for the commons, and thus there is no natural advocate for such places.

I argue that bus service in Denver and the region is such a commons. The taxpayers “own” the RTD, but very few folks have a direct sense of ownership. Many benefit from the common good, in this case bus service, both directly and indirectly, but few see themselves as advocates for the RTD.

Many people can’t afford car payments, insurance, gas and parking fees, and the other costs associated with car ownership. Thus, every day (and every night for those on shift work) lots of people rely on the transit system to get them to and from work every day. Cutting the bus service to “save on costs” may end up costing more, as those who once relied on a bus now find themselves unemployed, and suddenly are on various forms of public assistance. Just like the cats in the thatch town, we are all connected, one to another. 

And so, I’d urge you to think beyond the simple financial statement of the RTD and to resist the Trumpian (see? I got a reference in) notion of cutting the programs that help the less fortunate and to remember that ultimately, we all live in houses with thatched roofs. The only question is, do we have enough cats?

Hal Bidlack is a retired professor of political science and a retired Air Force lieutenant colonel who taught more than 17 years at the U.S. Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs.