never capture our mind the way an actual deadline does.
These data show how scarcity captures attention at many time scales. We saw in the introduction that scarcity captures attention at the level of milliseconds—the time it took the hungry to recognize the word
CAKE
. We see it at the scale of minutes (aiming blueberries) and of days and weeks (college seniors getting the most out of their time before graduation). The pull of scarcity, which begins at milliseconds, cumulates into behaviors that stretch over much longer time scales. Altogether, this illustrates how scarcity captures the mind, both subconsciously and when we act more deliberately. As the psychologist Daniel Kahneman would say, scarcity captures the mind both when thinking fast and when thinking slow.
TUNNELING
At 10 p.m. on April 23, 2005 , Brian Hunton of the Amarillo Fire Department received what was to be his last call.
Some calls turn out to be false alarms. Some—like this burning house on South Polk Street—turn out to be all too real. Not knowing which is which, firefighters take each one seriously. Each alarm creates a literal fire drill: firefighters must go from a relaxed evening at the firehouse to being at the fire scene, ready to face the flames. Not only must they get there quickly, but they must arrive in full gear and fully prepared. They rehearse and optimize each step. They even train getting dressed quickly. All this pays off. Within sixtyseconds of the call, Hunton and the rest of the crew were fully loaded on the truck, their pants, jackets, hoods, gloves, helmets, and boots already on.
Those outside the firefighting community are surprised by how Hunton died. He did not die because of burns from the fire. Nor did he die from smoke inhalation or from building collapse. In fact, Hunton never made it to the fire. As the fire truck raced to South Polk Street, it took a sharp turn. As it turned the corner at full speed, the left rear door swung open. Hunton came tumbling out and his head struck the pavement. The massive force of the strike caused serious trauma to his head, from which he died two days later.
Hunton’s death is tragic because it could have been prevented. If he had been wearing a seat belt when the door accidentally swung open, he might have been rattled but he would have been safe.
Hunton’s death is particularly tragic because it is not unique. Some estimates place vehicle accidents as the second leading cause of firefighter deaths , after heart attacks. Between 1984 and 2000, motor vehicle collisions accounted for between 20 and 25 percent of firefighter fatalities . In 79 percent of these cases the firefighters were not wearing a seat belt. Though one cannot know for sure, it stands to reason that simply buckling up could have saved many of these lives.
Firefighters know these statistics. They learn them in safety classes. Hunton, for one, had graduated from a safety class the year before . “ I don’t know of a firefighter who doesn’t wear his or her seat belt when driving a personal vehicle,” wrote Charlie Dickinson, the deputy administrator of the U.S. Fire Administration, in 2007. “I don’t know of a firefighter who doesn’t also insist family members buckle up as well. Why is it then that firefighters lose their lives being thrown from fire apparatus?”
Rushing to a call, firefighters confront time scarcity. Not only must they get on the truck and to the fire quickly, but a lot of preparation also needs to take place by the time they arrive at the fire. They strategize en route. They use an onboard computer display to study the structure and layout of the burning building. They decideon their entry and exit strategies. They calculate the amount of hose they will need. All this must be done in the brief time it takes to get to the fire. And firefighters are terrific at managing this scarcity. They get to distant fires in minutes. They reap a big focus dividend. But this dividend comes at a