The New York Times reported today that another seven American troops died in Iraq, just in the last two days. Their deaths coincided with 28 deaths in Diwaniya when the Iraqi army clashed for hours with members of a militia loyal to Moktada al-Sadr and an additional 13 people died in Baghdad when a car bomb exploded at a checkpoint just outside the Interior Ministry’s headquarters.
It’s against this backdrop that two Samuel Preston and Emily Buzzell argue that conditions in Iraq really aren’t all that life-threatening.
Between March 21, 2003, when the first military death was recorded in Iraq, and March 31, 2006, there were 2,321 deaths among American troops in Iraq. Seventy-nine percent were a result of action by hostile forces. Troops spent a total of 592,002 “person-years” in Iraq during this period. The ratio of deaths to person-years, .00392, or 3.92 deaths per 1,000 person-years, is the death rate of military personnel in Iraq.
How does this rate compare with that in other groups? One meaningful comparison is to the civilian population of the United States. That rate was 8.42 per 1,000 in 2003, more than twice that for military personnel in Iraq.
The comparison is imperfect, of course, because a much higher fraction of the American population is elderly and subject to higher death rates from degenerative diseases. The death rate for U.S. men ages 18 to 39 in 2003 was 1.53 per 1,000 — 39 percent of that of troops in Iraq. But one can also find something equivalent to combat conditions on home soil. The death rate for African American men ages 20 to 34 in Philadelphia was 4.37 per 1,000 in 2002, 11 percent higher than among troops in Iraq. Slightly more than half the Philadelphia deaths were homicides.
Not surprisingly, the right seems delighted with this analysis. Glenn Reynolds, among others, was exuberant, saying, “[I]t’s hard to look at these numbers and see the catastrophe that the ‘527 media’ are proclaiming.”
All of this is transparently ridiculous.
It’s apparently part of an ongoing trend in conservative talking points. Maybe Americans would be less opposed to the war if only they could be convinced that the violence and casualty rate isn’t as bad as they think it is. It’s this thinking, for example, that prompted Rep. Steve King (R-Iowa) to argue that the civilian violent death rate in Washington, D.C., is actually higher than it is in Iraq, and cited bogus data while making the case. Similarly, RedState compared Baghdad to Milwaukee, after a tragic spate of shootings.
Kieran Healy did a terrific job of tearing the whole argument to shreds at Crooked Timber, and this portion stood out.
This is why comparisons to death rates in civilian settings — even comparatively violent ones — are misguided. Anyone who thinks that someone walking around Philly is more likely to be violently attacked than a marine out on patrol in Baghdad is out of their mind. Moreover, troops on patrol are kitted out with protective gear, travel in well-organized groups, and have guns. And yet they still die in large numbers. Crude comparisons of death rates across very different settings mask big differentials in exposure to violent incidents, ignore fundamental differences in the structure of those incidents, and—in the case of military fatalities—ignore the huge improvements in field medicine that (according to data for 2004) allowed the ratio of wounded to killed soldiers in Iraq to be more than two and a half times what it was in Vietnam. Bear in mind, too, that all of what I’ve said so far ignores the elephant in the room, which is that the death rates in the article refer exclusively to U.S. forces on active duty in the whole of Iraq and not to regular Iraqi civilians. Contrary to what you may have heard, these people are not magically immune to the effects of car bombs, death squads, or suicide bombers. […]
[T]he acid test is quite straightforward. Would you — can you? — take a commercial flight to Baghdad tomorrow, get a taxi from the airport to the city, stay at a local hotel, see some sights and eat out at a decent restaurant without being in fear of your life? What about Philadelphia?
That’s easy enough to understand, isn’t it?