Negligent Negligence?

NOTE: this post is really only for law students and/or other huge dorks. I apologize to the rest of you. Don't judge me for it!

Belgian law is based on the French system of civil law, rather than English common law. As I'm not intimately familiar with civil law systems, my understanding of their tort regimes is limited. Nonetheless, I'm going to wing this one anyway.

Upon registration here as a student, I had to pay E13 for what they call "third-party liability insurance." Always skeptical of insurance, I asked for an explanation. In broken English, the administrator said something to the effect of:

"It is for if you bring damage to someone else, then you don't have to pay. So if you damage someone or scratch a car with your bike, then you don't pay."

For reasons that should be obvious, I found this hard to believe, but upon further research the administrator appears to be correct. I don't know the precise scope or contours of this insurance plan (for instance, I don't know if it covers intentional torts, though I think it does), but its existence just blows my mind.

Insurance, as we all know, is subject to the so-called Moral Hazard problem, whereby an individual is likely to change his behavior in the presence of an insurance contract because he will not be subject to the same degree of liability in the event he fucks up. In short, he won't be as careful. This certainly isn't an insurmountable problem as both providers and purchasers think insurance in many situations is appropriate. In fact, we as a society even require it in some circumstances (as with auto insurance).

But here, I have what amounts to "tort insurance", which seems to undermine the entire purpose of tort law. Though admittedly open to debate, at least one of the underlying goals of an effective tort regime (at least in our system) is to induce people to behave optimally. Justice Learned Hand first applied a cost-benefit analysis to negligence cases in US v Carroll Towing, and we've more or less been down that path ever since.

(for any non-law people who have made it this far in the post, (1) congrats, you're a dork, and (2) a brief aside: Carroll Towing and its progeny created a system whereby negligence is assigned to incentivize individuals to take efficient levels of precaution. If the cost of a certain precaution is less than the benefit it creates, then the individual must take such precaution. When one fails to do so, he is deemed negligent and held liable for injuries incurred.)

As applied here: if I have tort insurance, the potential cost of my actions drastically decreases since I won't have to pay any damages I cause. As such, the cost of certain, potentially risky behavior is no longer greater than any benefits I may recieve from engaging in it. Ergo, jumping up and down on cars sounds like a great idea, and I am far more likely to be a reckless hooligan. Awesome.

I dunno. This country hasn't blown up yet, but if this system were implemented in the US we'd (finally?) have total anarchy! I guess it's also possible the civil law system handles these issues differently, but I'm pretty sure I'm right here. Either way, I find it interesting - food for thought if nothing else.

In other news, I really need a haircut.

Setting

A little about Leuven:

The full name of the university I'm studying at is the Katholieke Universiteit Leuven, or K.U.Leuven for short. It's situated about 20 km east of Brussels in Flanders, which means the primary langauge here is Flemish (essentially Dutch). The southern half of Belgium is called Wallonia, and there they speak French.

Leuven is in essence a college town. The university has about 30,000 students, while I think the town and surrounding area has something like 90,000 residents. It's also surrounded by cornfields. Sound familiar? It's not. The similarities between U of I and KUL end there. This place is much more urban, in a sense, but it still has a small town feel to it. Pretty much what you'd expect from the middle of Belgium.

KUL was founded in like 1450 by some pope, so it's pretty old. The streets here all medieval and shit, which means this place a maze. I talked to a Dutch kid the other day (see earlier post on "footy"), and I commented on how hard it was to find my way around. He thought it was easy, but then added he was used to this sort of system. Apparently, he visited New York (a grid) and couldn't get a handle on it -"On a grid, if I turn around and go the other way I'm immediately lost. It's just what you're used to."

Dumbass.

Now the important part. They have a Pizza Hut and a McDonalds, but no Starbucks. Wtf? Not many people drink coffee around here I guess. Freaks. But they also got good clothes stores. I'm sure I'll hit up Hugo and Pepe Jeans, among others, because 11 pairs of jeans just isn't enough. Part of Leuven is actually a bit touristy from what I'm told, but being something of a tourist, I don't so much mind. Other than that, this place is chock full of bars, cafes, restaurants, and ice cream shops. It's going to be a good semester.

That's all for now. School's out.

Best Sign EVER

I found this on a poster advertising a party in a couple days.

"DJ KICKEN: Ain't no party like a alcoholic party, Nasty Creep"

With a tag line like that, how can I refuse?

Irony

1. I have a post about "manning up" right above a post entitled "Wonderland". oops.

2. I've spent the past six years in Champaign. I came to Belgium for a change of pace. So what's the first thing I see on the train from the airport to Leuven? Cornfields.

Brando's Finest?

"Stella! Hey, STELLA!"

...one of the AFI's 100 most memorable movie quotes, and also the beer brewed right here in Leuven. It's everywhere. Belgium is home to over 450 brands of beer, but everyone knows which one's brewed here. And that's ok with me, except for the fact that every time I see the logo I think of A Streetcar Named Desire. I give myself one chance in twenty of making it the entire semester without drunkenly reenacting that line one night on the way home from a bar. Hopefully no one will know what the hell I'm talking about.

But on the subject, my other favorite line from the movie (for obvious reasons):

"What your talking about is Desire... just brutal Desire... the name of that rattle-trap streetcar that bangs through the Quarter, up one old narrow street and down another."

Good stuff.

Nuts

Dear Europe,

Your behavior is unacceptable.

Earlier today, a couple of your Dutch cohorts managed to take a perfectly good name "football" for a perfectly good sport (soccer) and make it sound like the everybody-wins-for-playing-and-we-don't-keep-score-because-competition-is-the-devil game that most of America thinks it is. Trying to get a game together, the Dutchmen-in-question invited me to play a little "footy."

Wait... "footy"? Seriously?? I'm in Belgium, not an Amsterdam whorehouse. This is the kind of crap that people get beat up for. No wonder the world referred to Belgium as Germany's screen door to Paris during WWII. And France, you're not off the hook either. As if the Maginot Line wasn't dumb enough already, you thought these guys would hold up your border? Wow. No wonder you got trampled.

It's clear you all need help, but fear not. I'm here to provide it. Your entire continent needs a few more F-150s and a few less fendered Schwinns. Take a PBR-and-McCormick boilermaker down a beer bong. Chug a bottle of Jack. And while you're at it, slap some chick on the ass. In short, MAN UP!!

And then come talk to me about football.

Wonderland

Embarking on my own fantastic adventures, I am reminded of a favorite literary quote of mine from Louis Carroll's Through the Looking Glass:

Alice laughed. 'There's no use trying,' she said: 'one CAN'T
believe impossible things.'

'I daresay you haven't had much practice,' said the Queen. 'When I was your age, I always did it for half-an-hour a day. Why, sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.

Schooled

Two days in, three hard lessons:

1. Broken English is AWESOME!!! I’m not even joking. It is infinitely better than no English at all.

2. Wheeled luggage on centuries-old cobblestone streets = bad.

3. Little waste-baskety things in store fronts with pictures of umbrellas on them are not for garbage. They are for umbrellas. If you put garbage in them, people will not like you. Stupid Americans.

Down the Rabbit Hole

I’m here. Finally. In temporary housing. Getting here was an adventure in itself, and by “adventure” I mean “huge pain in the ass.” More on that later.

Before I left, a friend of mine said something to the effect of: “so you’re traveling by yourself, to a country you’ve never been to, and where you: (1) don’t know anyone; (2) don’t speak the language; (3) don’t have a place to stay; and (4) have nothing but the address of an administration office with whom you have never corresponded. And you’re not worried?”

My answer, of course, was “no,” but perhaps it shouldn’t have been. Though ultimately my plan proved effective, a bit more forethought may have been useful. After I got off the train, I had no idea where to go or how big Leuven was. I thought perhaps I could walk to the International Student Building, but I wasn’t really sure where that was either. To make things worse, I hadn’t yet figured out the legend or the key to the map of the town I was given earlier since it was all in Dutch. So I sat on the curb outside the train station for about ten minutes, exhausted from a red-eye trans-Atlantic flight to Heathrow, a two-hour layover spent mostly in a security queue, a puddle-jumper to Brussels, and a train ride to Leuven, all while schlepping 100 pounds of luggage. I finally decided to jump in a cab, show him the address, and see where he took me.

This turned out to be a good move, because the International Student Building was a good twenty minute walk from the station, and I never would have made it and/or found it with all my luggage. I arrived at the administration office at 12:30 PM, an hour and a half before they opened. People take long ass lunches here. Luckily, one woman that worked there saw me and helped me out anyway. She sent me over to a student dormitory a few blocks away that serves as temporary housing for international students. She also, thankfully, allowed me to ditch my luggage in her office for a couple hours so I didn’t have to haul it all around at once.

I found the temporary housing without a problem, rented a room, and immediately passed out for about an hour – almost twenty four hours since first leaving for the airport in Chicago. I later retrieved my luggage from the admin office and then went back to bed having survived the first major ordeal of the trip.

Primer

"Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain."

Now that I've told you all about my little hidden blog, I feel I've been found out! My little secret sounding board is over. But, as it is, welcome to my blog. I've had this site for about two years now, posting sporadically and anonymously on whatever crossed my mind. Lucky for you, nothing much remains of my prior rants, save for two recent posts that I liked and felt like keeping for the hell of it.

Coming up, I'll keep you posted on all the folly, nonsense, and downright lunacy that will be my semester abroad. Maybe I'll post a few pictures as well. Hopefully you will find this entertaining and informative. At the very least, I think you'll find it to be an uncommon peek into my own little world. Don't be scared!