Opinion

And It's Guaranteed!

The Case for Commercial Organ Banks

By Michael M. Kurth

“The big Four-oh.” I had ignored its steady, irrevocable approach hoping it would come and go just like any other day, but turning forty quietly is on a social par with driving drunk: friends don't let friends do it. My "friends" celebrated the way one might celebrate if Khadaffi broke his leg: "Hey! How's it feeeeeell" they would shout across a crowded room. And if public humiliation wasn't enough, there were gags like the dirty-old-man birthday cards and the fire extinguisher next to the candle-laden cake. The real "fun" though, was after the celebration when, in private, I began the forty-year parts inventory.

I started with the hair (almost all gray) and worked my way down noting what had fallen out, been pulled, twisted, yanked or cut out, or simply stopped working. (Hmmm: could any of this be tax-deductible; perhaps accelerated depreciation or a capital loss?) I then took stock of what was still there but fading (brain cells die at the rate of …) and what still worked reasonably well (thank God!). I found most parts a bit worn, but the important ones still working. By Tullock's Criterion, I'm doing okay.

Gordon Tullock was Distinguished Professor of Economics at Virginia Tech when I was a graduate student there. (He now teaches at George Mason University.) A brilliant man, he earned considerable notoriety as an "academic imperialist" by applying the tools of his trade—economics—to other academic fields of inquiry. He defended his aggression by claiming that people are economic in their use of scarce resources, regardless of what those resources are and to what end they are put. The body is no exception. In fact, vital body organs are among the scarcest of resources: when one goes, it's lights out forever. It would be "inefficient" Tullock reasoned, to die of, say, a heart attack when otherwise in perfect health because all the healthy organs would go to waste. Thus, Tullock's Criterion: take greatest care of those parts that are weakest. If done to perfection, one should collapse in a heap as everything falls at once.

It may sound strange, but to an economist the human body is no different from any other piece of equipment. If automobile parts were as difficult and costly to replace as human parts, cars would be designed to collapse in a heap. Indeed, clunkers sometimes do just that. The reason is twofold: people won't pay for parts that last 200,000 miles if they expect the rest of their car to last only 50,000 miles, and automakers won't manufacture parts to last 200,000 if one crucial, irreplaceable part lasts considerably less. Of course, no one knows exactly when their car or their body will heave its last sigh, so there are often good parts left over by people who didn't anticipate the end. That is why we have junkyards.

Junkyards may not be pretty, but they do serve an economic function beyond providing a home for gnarly dogs and fat men named Ernie. Inexpensive spare parts allow cars to be made to last longer; also, as a rule, the easier it is to replace or repair a part, the less quality will be needed in its manufacture and the less care it will receive from its owner. The same is true of body parts; if eyeballs could be purchased at the five-and-dime, fewer people would wear safety goggles.

Recent strides by medical science in transplanting human organs have made it possible to extend body-life beyond the limits of "factory installed" equipment. This is not so much a matter of improving God's work, as it is improving man's ability to use fully, according to Tullock's Criterion, the gifts of God. But for medical science to work its wonders, there must be a market for "used" human organs; we need, quite literally, human junkyards (without Ernie and his dog, thank you). Unfortunately, the government will not allow that market to develop. Human organs cannot be bought and sold, even on a future basis. For example, it is illegal for organ barks to offer to pay someone's estate for usable organs recovered when that person dies. As things stand, organs must be donated and there is a severe shortage of donors due to the lack of incentive to give. To help alleviate the shortage, the government declared April 21-28 National Organ Tissue Donor Awareness Week. While it has a catchy little title sure to tug at the heart-strings of America, somehow I don't think this bureaucratic endeavor will be as effective as cash payments (a liver transplant now costs $250,000; a heart transplant $150,000).

I have a special interest in seeing a free market for body parts. I think they would make excellent 60th-birthday gifts. Twenty years from now, when someone hollers at me: "Heeey! The big six-oh! Does it still work?" I want to be able to holler back, "The old one was a bit worn, but you should see the new one my friends gave me!"