A motorist may uncritically conclude that a yellow flashing light—or any added markings—could only improve safety. The assumption is that if the buggy catches our attention so we “see” it, we won’t crash into it. I addressed this myth in my research on the Swartzentruber’s rejection of another symbol supposedly for safety, the slow-moving vehicle emblem (Anderson 2013b), where I suggested that adding markings may not only miss the main reasons for crashes but, in ways, can increase crash risk.

Consider how many crashes are really the result of a motorist cruising along, watching the road and not overdriving his view range, then suddenly rear-ends a buggy because he just didn’t “see” it?

I found in my research (Anderson 2013a) that there are a lot of other things going on, including eyes-off-road, motorist intoxication, reckless behavior, view obstruction (e.g. hill crest or sun’s glare), and miscommunication, such as buggy making an un-signaled left turn.

To what extent would a yellow flashing light help prevent crashes in such scenarios?

Could a flashing yellow light actually increase risk of crash?

Here’s one scenario. A motorist is trying to pass a buggy at night but is blinded by a yellow flashing light. With the intensely concentrated beams of LEDs, these lights are bright! When the light is on, the whole windshield—smudges, bug splatters, dust, and all—illuminates with a glare. When the flashing light is in the off stage, the motorist’s eyes are adjusting to darkness again. But the cycle is so quick, his eyes must constantly adjust. Think about being in a dark room, staring at a lamp, and flicking it on and off in rapid succession. That’s the effect. And the motorist here is mesmerized by the flashing light—the “moth effect” (Terry 2018)—focusing on it rather than factors needed to make a safe pass: the buggy’s width, what’s ahead, and potential obstacles. The motorist may poorly maneuver around the buggy or not catch other important roadway factors, such as an oncoming hillcrest or a pedestrian walking between the motor vehicle and buggy.

In another scenario, the motorist might mistake the flashing yellow light for a yellow flashing traffic light that signals “proceed forward with caution.” This mistake may be easier to make because the yellow flashing light is generally so powerful that it reduces conspicuity of other buggy markings, such as constant red taillights or reflective tape.

Overall, I suspect that the State has insufficient research to claim that requiring a yellow flashing light is in the interest of safety. For example, a recent Ohio Department of Transportation report (2019) made many safety recommendations but said nothing about adding flashing lights to buggies. They did note aggressive motorists as a foremost concern.

I also suspect that rear-ended buggy drivers frequently deal with victim shaming. They’re told they contributed to the crash because they couldn’t be “seen” enough. This could be a readily accessible alibi for a motorist diverting attention from irresponsible driving. Relatedly, I suspect that auto insurance companies benefit from this law, as it shifts some liability to buggies and away from motor vehicles.

Further, the fact that this yellow flashing light preoccupation goes back to the 1960s suggests great limitations in creative, community-based problem solving. At a 2023 case in Ashland County, where bill co-sponsor Scott Wiggim testified for the state, a defendant cross-examined him by asking for the names of Amish he worked with on the law. He could think of no names other than one who is from a more mainline/progressive Old Order Amish group who wants to see the Swartzentrubers adopt a yellow flashing light. This suggests uneven collaboration between the state and the Amish, with the state seemingly gravitating toward more progressive Amish as partners.