Car insurance: highway robbery?

By Robert Lalah

It's strange, but whenever I'm waiting in line to renew my car insurance policy, I always get the same image in my head. It's that scene from the Road Runner cartoons, where the persistent but perpetually unfortunate Wile E. Coyote realises certain doom is upon him and, in one final act of desperation, clutches a tiny umbrella as a giant ACME anvil falls from the sky towards him.

You'd have to search far and wide to find someone who actually likes paying for car insurance. Some say that's what scientists are really searching for on Mars with that Curiosity rover.

I renewed my policy just last week and, not for the first time, was left feeling ticked off by the whole business.

And why shouldn't I? You walk into a building, wait in line, fill out a few forms then walk back out several minutes later, tens of thousands of dollars poorer with nothing to show for it but a lousy piece of paper. That piece of paper, by the way, can't get you on an airplane, won't help you land a dream job, isn't useful in the search for a good woman and certainly doesn't put food on the table.

A COMLICATED BUSINESS

Of course, there are complicated explanations of why insurance costs so much. This is where all the mathematical equations come in. Risk plus damage, times square root of X equals Y over 100.

But to the poor downtrodden fool who just paid for another year's policy, this means as much as JPS's breakdown of charging for electricity. It just doesn't help.

Everything about the act of walking into the insurance company to renew the policy takes on an unpleasant tone. That's unfortunate and, I admit, rather unfair. Think of the staff. Lovely people, I'm sure.

But the whole thing makes you so tense, you're left suspicious of everything. Every smile suggests an ulterior motive, and each kind word is scrutinised to detect any extra charges. It's the same reason a barmaid's lustful overtures are so often ignored and why friendly cycling Mormons get doors slammed in their faces. The fear is that if you let your guard down, it's going to cost you.

There are some elements of car insurance that are particularly vexing. Take paying $2,000 for a valuation report, for instance. Certainly, the company needs to verify the condition of the vehicle they're insuring. But you'd think this sort of thing could be covered in the cost of the policy, especially if you've never made a claim on it.

To make matters worse, you don't know what's going to be in the report. Whatever it is, though, will surely affect the cost of insurance. So waiting around while the person who examined the car prepares the report is like waiting for a call from your doctor's office. That rash will either be declared a harmless inconvenience or something much, much worse.

In my case, things didn't go so well. I used a different company to do the valuation than I did last year and, wouldn't you know it? They estimated the car's value to be more than the other company did a year earlier. The result? I had to pay more for insurance than I did last year, even though the car is one year older. Seems unfair.

EXCESSIVE EXCESS

Then there's the business of penalising customers for actually making a claim. They tell you the hefty figure you're paying is drastically discounted because you haven't made a claim on the policy. The second you do claim on it, though, that discount goes out the door. To make the following year's payment, be prepared to sell a kidney. What's the point of paying for something that you dread using?

There's also a clause that warns you'll likely be forced to pay for some of the damage yourself, in the event you do get into an accident and are brazen enough to make a claim. Excess, they call it. A fitting term, because it surely is excessive.

Not everyone abides by the rules, of course. There are hundreds of people driving around without insurance and with no plans of rectifying this anytime soon. Maybe they're the ones who caused insurance companies to make the policies so oppressive. The good again suffer for the bad.

Oh, well. Complaining will get us nowhere, and there are bigger problems to tackle anyway.

Just watch out for me on the roads. I'll be the one with the giant sign on the roof with the words 'Keep Away' flashing in red. Hey, you can never be too careful.

Robert Lalah is assistant editor - features, and author of the popular 'Roving with Lalah'. Email feedback to columns@gleanerjm.com and robert.lalah@gleanerjm.com.