Russian Roulette at the Gas Pump

We are now notified that pumping our own gas causes cancer. Actually, I suspected this all along. When the station hirelings started lurking in their bulletproof cages, refusing to come out to the Tarmac, it was the tip-off that something was wrong. We should have known to beware the pumps.

So last week the news came. The gasoline in California is laced with a heavy dose of benzene, more than in any other state. There’s a couple of cities, like Seattle, where it’s worse, but California is the only place where it’s bad all over.

And you know about benzene, eh? In the laboratory it has grown a lot of ugly tumors on a lot of white rats. With every whiff of gas at the pump, you’re getting a dose of a hot carcinogen.

I won’t bore you with the sad tale of how we got lots of benzene in our gas, but basically it comes to this: benzene is a substitute for other additives that once were mixed with gas, mainly lead. Since California has cracked down on these old additives more than anyone else, California also gets more of the substitute, benzene.

The trade-off here is an interesting one. Lead, you will recall, was cut out of gas because it rots the brains of our children and whittles their IQ down to the mumble stage.

Lead was mixed with gasoline to raise the octane level and prevent cars from knocking. Without lead our cars would ping, and no one wanted the pinging. So the oil companies turned to benzene. Which is known, and was known then, as a carcinogen.

Did the regulators know about this trade-off? Yes, they did. They just didn’t talk about it very much. The regulators even did some interesting arithmetic on this trade-off. They calculated how many of us would contract cancer as a result of the benzene.

They figured that a person’s chances of developing cancer from pumping his own gas in L.A. was roughly eight in 100,000. Not bad, I guess, but much higher than most other pollution risks. Drinking L.A. tap water poses a cancer risk of one in a million, for example.

What it means is that 220 of us in the L.A. Basin will get cancer each year because of the benzene. You can close your eyes and picture the dark angel flying over L.A. at night, choosing among the self-pumpers.

“Get her, get him, and get that kid. No, wait a minute, the other kid . . .”

So here’s one of those puzzles of modern life. How do you stay off that list? The regulators say virtually all the exposure to benzene, and therefore the danger, comes from pumping your own gas. That leaves us with a couple of alternatives.

I have a friend who’s been aware of benzene for a while. He always tries to use those devices on the pump handles that keep the gas flowing automatically. Then he just walks away and stands upwind.

But most station operators have ripped these devices off the handles. Why, do you suppose? Do they get kickbacks from the hospitals for each new benzene cancer case? You think they fight among themselves for the reward, arguing over which station contributed the biggest benzene dose?

Oh, maybe not. Maybe they just want to make sure we keep our minds on our business at the pump. All of which brings up the other, obvious strategy. You could force the station operator, or his cheerful henchmen, to whiff the benzene themselves. Just drive up to the full-service pump.

Courtesy of my calculator, I did a little arithmetic of my own. Let’s say you drive 12,000 miles a year and get 22 miles per gallon. Let’s say the surcharge for full service is the usual, ludicrous 40 cents a gallon.

That comes to $218 extra per year. That’s what it would cost to make fairly certain the dark angel won’t pick you for the benzene honor roll.

Of course, it also means that the Jose or Claude or Ruffi who pumped your gas just climbed up a notch on the eligibility list. You’ve paid him to accept the cancer risk that otherwise would have been sucked into your lungs. Another trade-off, you might say.

But not the last. In the next couple of years, our regulators will begin a crackdown on benzene as an additive, just like they did with lead.

That means there will be another substitute, something to replace the benzene. What will it be, and what are its trade-offs?

We don’t know. Like before, no one is talking much.