Worldschooling has caused me to rethink the systems I once took for granted. As we travel, we see how different cultures approach everyday life. In Italy, I wrote about my new perspective on The Oppression of Things. Now as we leave Cambodia and enter Thailand, I have been pondering on the hidden cost of “progress”.

Many Cambodians I’ve spoken to see America as a land of endless wealth. But when they hear about our cost of living, they’re shocked. In many cases, high expenses aren’t optional. Here are a few examples of ways you can’t opt out of the costly systems that define modern American life.

Transportation

In Cambodia, transportation is incredibly affordable. An hour-long tuk-tuk ride to the airport costs $5 to $8. It’s a simple vehicle—just a moped with a carriage attached—but it gets the job done. No seatbelts. Pile in as many people as you can. In America, a taxi driver has to operate a road-legal car, be insured, limit to one passenger per seatbelt, and comply with strict safety regulations. While these rules exist for good reasons, they make transportation significantly more expensive. It’s economical and practical for a family to pile into a tuk-tuk for a short ride to the market. But in most of the U.S., such an option simply doesn’t exist. If you want food, you must purchase, title, register, emissions test, and insure your own car.

But isn’t auto insurance a good thing? Sure, it mitigates risk—but at what cost? I’m still dealing with an accident from 2021. A lady who rear-ended us is pursuing my policy’s $300,000 limit. Four years later, attorneys are still arguing over procedure, depositions are reoccurring, and the legal system has burned well over $100,000 in a largely frivolous case. If you want to drive legally in America, you’re required to buy into the $318 billion auto insurance industry (and consequently also the $57.3 billion personal injury industry). For perspective, the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration’s (NHTSA) budget for 2025 is $1.3 billion.

Entrepreneurship

Starting a small restaurant business in Cambodia is as simple as setting up a cart. In the U.S., you first need to navigate a labyrinth—business licenses, tax registrations, insurance policies, health inspections, building and fire codes, labor laws… Again, all of these rules exist for good reasons. But they also mean you aren’t starting a business without a large loan and at least 6 months of work before you sell your first dish. Then we wonder why so many fail.

In Cambodia, I can grab a delicious pork and rice meal from a street vendor for $1.25. Last night in Thailand, the final bill for the whole family’s dinner at a small local restaurant was under $13. Is it the safest, most regulated meal? No. But if I want to pay for more safety, there are modern kitchens I can choose from. The key here is choice (aka freedom?).

Medical Costs

The U.S. medical system is another example. I’m on month five of trying to get our pre-travel vaccinations processed through insurance. The clinic’s sticker price for a typhoid vaccine? $608. The market rate (insurance negotiated or self-pay agreement)? About $150. They were short one dose, so I ended up getting mine in Italy. I walked into a pharmacy and paid $28 – no insurance, no government subsidy, just a fair price. The complexity of our healthcare system has made it so bureaucratic that we often spend multiples more than the actual cost just figuring out how to bill for it.

The Bigger Picture

I have always ascribed to, and I think many of us are motivated by the idea of leaving everything we touch a little better than we found it. It’s a core principle deeply engrained in me, perhaps even a value that I hold dear. But too much of a good thing has lead my heart to be pricked by the “Never Enough” theme of the movie The Greatest Showman, and the “never satisfied” vs “that would be enough” theme in the musical Hamilton. If you’re not familiar, I encourage you to watch both looking for the consequences of unwise application of the value of continuous improvement.

Let’s call it the “Strategic B” principle. In school, I could get a C without studying. A little effort—15 to 30 minutes the night before—got me a B. But to get an A, I had to study extensively for several days. Sometimes an A was worth it, but often, the B was the most efficient use of my time. Many of our modern systems have lost sight of this. We’ve pushed beyond the point of diminishing returns in the pursuit of perfection, and the cost—both financial and bureaucratic—has become overwhelming.

As Trump, Musk, and DOGE crusade against government waste, I find myself concerned instead about private-industry waste resulting from government regulations. Have we built a society that prioritizes perfection at the expense of affordability, efficiency, and sometimes common sense? Have we already sacrificed our freedom in exchange for safety, all in the name of progress? I don’t have the answers, but I am definitely reconsidering what “progress” and “improvement” look like!