British Columbia’s North Shore Search and Rescue group is a very impressive organization. Over the years they have saved the lives of numerous hikers and skiers in the mountains to the north of Vancouver. It’s a private undertaking, financed by voluntary contributions. They have their own helicopters. Dozens of highly-skilled staff pilot these vehicles, go down on ropes to pick up the wounded, whisk them off to hospitals. They have their own doctors to assist with those in need. Sometimes, all too often, weather conditions interfere with or preclude their efforts, and all they can take out of the dangerous mountainous trails are human remains, which greatly saddens them.

They are heroes, a credit to this great country of ours.

How might an economist look at this organization? One question is the dollars spent per lives saved. How does it compare with other efforts to save lives, such as efforts to quell heart disease or cancer or obesity or smoking or traffic fatalities. The goal, presumably, is to equalize this statistic across all such efforts to maximize the bang for the buck in terms of lives saved. For if one avenue is more efficient than others, more money should be allocated in that direction to maximize results.

Another consideration is to realize that specialization and the division of labour are integral aspects of the dismal science. North Shore Search and Rescue only steps in when people are in trouble. But what about prevention?

The difficulty is that private enterprise does not heretofore play much of a role in this aspect of life saving. Why? Mainly because the government owns much of land in the mountains. How could privatization help reduce the demand for the always necessary services of NSS&R?

Here are the names of some of the mountains that lie to the North of West and North Vancouver: Grouse, Seymour, Black, Hollyburn, Strachan, Unnecessary, Lions, Goat, Dam, Crown, Fromme and Lynn. Imagine a scenario where all of them were fully privatized; there would be one owner for each.

A basic finding of economics is that competition brings about a better product at a lower price. The reason we have pretty good and relatively cheap shoes, socks, bicycles, computers, heaters, air conditioners, pens, pencils, paper clips, rubber bands, furniture, ketchup, bread, etc., is because these industries are run on a competitive basis. This also accounts for why the immigration traffic was from East to West Germany, from North to South Korea, and not the other way around.

How might, then, a competitive private mountain ownership system reduce the need for the services of NSS&R (they would be the first to welcome such an eventuality, since they want to save lives, not build an empire). It would be simple. Each owner would set up his own “rules of the road” and we would then be able to determine which system better promotes the safety of skiers, hikers, bikers, snowshoe walkers, etc.

Perhaps one of them might introduce a system where users of the mountains who strayed off the safe beaten paths must pay a fine of, oh, $1,000. Another might impose a penalty of $10,000. An entrepreneur might charge higher fees at night, or when inclement weather occurs, since rescues cost more under these more dangerous conditions. Perhaps an owner might insist that mountain users demonstrate appropriate skills. They would also compete with one another in fighting forest fires.

It's very difficult to anticipate how a market might work in an industry such as this. But we know the benefits of competition, and there’s no reason to think these economic laws would not function in the mountains. The problem with the present system is that no one loses any money when tragedies strike. The government certainly does not directly suffer. Mountain entrepreneurs would—and this would focus them on the task at hand.

One objection to this idea would be that these territories are currently akin to public parks. Access is free. Unless owners used their property to promote others of their holdings, they would charge admission fees. For example, they could allow people on to their mountain for free, and use this freebie to promote a beer that they sell or an airline they own or a hotel of theirs located elsewhere. This is sometimes called a “loss leader,” as when a supermarket provides free parking to customers.

But we all pay for these amenities now, in a more hidden manner through taxes. Those “freeways,” for example, are not really free. Rather, a better name for them would be “taxways.” Ditto for the mountains in B.C., and everywhere else for that matter.

The issue is not whether we would have to pay for these amenities or not, but what would be cheaper and more just—the present system of government ownership and regulation, or free enterprise? We pay for both, and usually the latter is far cheaper. For example, sanitation removal and mail delivery, where they work side by side.

All I am saying is let’s give capitalism a chance.

But would not the issue of land claims and the adoption of United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIP) complicate, nay, undermine, if not totally invalidate the modest proposal sketched out above?

Not at all. Eventually, these issues will be decided, and then this proposal can be implemented.

Indigenous people, like anyone else, can own the mountains, which lie to the north of Vancouver. If the courts determine that they are the proper owners of all of these mountains, they can compete among themselves to best maximize their value by satisfying customers. If they own only some of them, they can then compete with the other owners. There’s precedent for this sort of thing. For example, the Squamish Nation has an ownership position in Park Royal, the massive shopping centre at the north end of the Lions Gate Bridge. In the United States, Indian bands own many gambling establishments, which compete with each other and with other reactional facilities.

But matters are a bit more complex than this, unfortunately. First, there are overlapping claims with no written treaties. All the claims are based on an oral history. From a property rights perspective, the overlapping claims are key. Second, there are Indigenous groups that are 100 per cent anti-development. Some are funded by U.S. environmental groups, so the implications of privatizing the Crown lands to Indigenous groups could mean shutting down the land for any development. And third, there are externalities to consider. For instance, if Indigenous Group A had claims to vital lands for infrastructure, including waterways and highways, they could prevent development in other areas for which they have no claims.

Economists are not without a response to these objections. First, we’re staunch supporters of ceteris paribus, other things equal. Assume, then, that there are no such objections; that this land is totally divorced from all issues of Indigenous land claims, treaties and other such complications. Does privatization of dangerous ski slopes and hiking trails make sense in terms of calamity prevention, or are we limited only to rescues?

Second, economists are very partial to the can opener joke. What? You thought dismal scientists had no sense of humour? Think again. Three specialists are marooned on an island. They have plenty of canned food, but no can opener. The physicist says, “Let’s drop the cans from certain height. With the temperature and pressure as they are, the cans will open and we won’t starve.” The chemist says, “That’s pretty good, but we can do better; let’s heat up these cans, they will open, and we’ll have hot food.” Whereupon they turn to the economist and ask how he can help in their deliberations. And he says “Assume a can opener!”

In like manner, we now assume away all these objections and complications; we banish them from consideration entirely. We instead ask whether or not privatization, which works well in practically every aspect of the economy, can save lives in this one. Our answer is Yes.

Finally, as a practical matter we know that privatization of mountain top Crown land is not bloody likely to occur. This entire exercise should not be read as a practical way of saving lives that can be implemented immediately, or soon after. Rather, this is, hopefully, an interesting thought commentary, an attempt to apply economic theory to the wonderful activities of the North Shore Search and Rescue operation.