Putting yourself on a roller coaster requires a certain level of trust. After the attendant quickly checks it and you pull down the safety bar, you’re flying at seventy miles per hour, totally at the mercy of engineering, maintenance, and, somewhere underneath it all, regulation. The majority of riders never stop to consider who is genuinely ensuring the safety of the ride. It turns out that the solution is complex. Furthermore, it may be nearly nonexistent depending on the state you are in.
Fixed-site amusement rides in the US are not subject to any federal safety regulations. Not one. Carnival and mobile rides that travel across state lines are under the jurisdiction of the Consumer Product Safety Commission, but federal oversight virtually vanishes once a ride is permanently bolted into the ground at a theme park. That gap is filled by a patchwork of state laws that are so inconsistent that it’s hard to believe they’ve been in place for this long without a more comprehensive national reckoning.
44 states have some sort of amusement ride regulation, according to the International Association of Amusement Parks and Attractions. Until you read the fine print, that seems comforting. Of those states, only twenty are thought to have “comprehensive government oversight”—that is, the ability to look into accidents and conduct routine inspections by a real government agency. The remaining states function in a gray area, depending on self-reporting, private inspectors that the parks employ, or regulations that are so vague that they are merely recommendations.
The case that is difficult to forget is Kansas. A 10-year-old boy died on a 168-foot water slide in 2016 at a park where 13 people had suffered serious injuries the two years before. The ride had never been examined by the state. There had been visits by private inspectors, but no government desk ever received their reports. The fact that a child died on a slide that regulators had virtually never examined in a state where examination was not necessary is the kind of detail that sticks with you. In 2017, Kansas finally passed stricter legislation, but only because lawmakers had few options due to public outcry.
In this nation, safety reform typically operates as follows: tragedy comes first, followed by legislation. It’s a frustrating sequence, especially with such obvious gaps. In contrast, Pennsylvania has developed a system that is more akin to a real one: real accountability, monthly inspections by third parties certified by the state, and quarterly reviews of new rides. There are other factors besides geography that distinguish riding a coaster in Pennsylvania from one in, say, Wyoming or Montana. There is absolutely no state oversight in Wyoming.
For years, safety experts have voiced concerns about this fragmentation, and industry observers are beginning to believe that, despite their technical soundness, voluntary standards upheld by organizations such as ASTM International simply cannot replace legally binding federal law. When it comes to machinery that transports thousands of people every day, the word “voluntary” carries a great deal of risk.
For decades, the amusement park industry has successfully lobbied against federal regulation, and it’s important to recognize that their argument isn’t totally without merit—state-level oversight can be responsive and locally tailored. However, reacting only after a child passes away isn’t a safety measure. It’s a pattern of reaction. The complexity of the technology used in contemporary rides has increased dramatically. There should be a serious response, most likely at the federal level, to the question of whether a disjointed regulatory structure with fifty different answers can keep up with that complexity.
