
Apropos of the season, The Dallas Morning News recently ran an article describing city planners’ attempts to minimize the carnage normally associated with their annual Easter egg hunts. The article’s description of the event reads like a scene out of Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome, with everyone from toddlers to overzealous parents pitted in a Hobbesian war of all against all as they scour the Dallas Arboretum for well-hidden marshmallowy treats.
"The people charged like wild animals," Karen Casteel of Carrollton said of oneIt’s a frightening scene, and we can but hope that the rain forecast for this weekend will help keep this year’s Easter egg body count down to a bare minimum.
of the egg hunts she attended some years ago at The Dallas Arboretum with her
daughter. "She's crying and a lot of little kids are crying. The parents are
hoarding the eggs. I'm telling you it was crazy."
Planners say they add new rules every year to try and keep the fields from becoming big mosh pits. They separate out the toddlers from the bigger children. They ask parents to stay off the field. They restrict the number of participants. They order thousands of extra eggs. They post caution tape to keep nonparticipants off the field. They hold the hunts for older children in different areas than the hunts for the babies and toddlers.
But apparently they still can't always keep the bad eggs off the field.
"We try desperately to not have parents on the field with children. For us, it creates a dangerous situation. Kids get knocked over. Kids whose parents obey the rules have a chance of getting run over," said Morgan.
As I read the article, it struck me that the Easter egg hunt offers us a great lesson in the importance of property rights. My children are still quite young, and so far all of our Easter egg hunts have been held in our own backyard with just the family and a few close friends. The kids all know each other, and they’ve always enjoyed the activity. So far no one has been hospitalized (knock on wood).
Contrast our idyllic little back-yard family gathering with the chaos of the large-scale public Easter egg hunts. Continuing from The Dallas Morning News article,
She added that the biggest prize offered by Bedford is an Easter basket, andThose who understand basic property rights, of course, are not surprised by the Bedford experience. It’s a perfectly predictable illustration of the tragedy of the commons. When resources are either unowned or owned “in common,” the incentive is to take as much as one can, as soon as one can, before someone else does the same.
there are 10,000 eggs for about 500 participants. "But you'd think there was
gold out there. We're at a loss," she said.
In-your-face egg gathering is not a new phenomenon. The Arboretum had a meltdown back in the late '90s, when thousands of candy-hungry children showed up and some older kids began gathering eggs before their event officially started.
"Lo and behold, those who are more aggressive don't wait for the whistle," said
president Mary Brinegar.
This lack of clearly defined property rights naturally leads to conflict, as everyone engages in a mad dash to fill their own baskets. Kids get knocked over, staff members get overrun by savage little candy junkies, parents engage in fisticuffs, and the very fabric of society is rent asunder so that little Susie doesn’t have to go home empty-handed and teary-eyed.
Granted, there’s a limit to how far one can stretch the analogy. The whole point of having an Easter egg hunt is the thrill the kids get from the hunt itself. If all the eggs were individually labeled with a particular child’s name to ensure they were picked up only by their rightful owners, you’d have the lamest Easter egg hunt ever. It would, however, help reduce conflict. The kids would be far less likely to trample each other to get the eggs, and if they did, the clear title to each egg would enable the event’s organizers to quickly determine which child was the aggressor and which was the victim.
And that, in an eggshell, is the importance of property rights. It may be possible to have relative peace and harmony in the absence of clearly defined property rights in a small tribal society (like that of the Smith household). But this requires a fair degree of interpersonal cohesion based on bonds of family or friendship. In a larger, more complex society (represented by the public Easter egg hunts), those bonds simply do not exist, and the lack of properly defined and enforced property rights inevitably leads to conflict and much wailing and gnashing of teeth.
This is why libertarians spend so much time focusing on and defending property rights. It’s not (just) because we’re selfish and don’t want anyone touching our stuff. It’s because we understand the crucial role property rights play in any harmonious and peaceful society – which is precisely the kind of society we’d like to help create.
Happy Easter, everyone. Let’s be careful out there.




