Monday, October 02, 2006

latimes.com

Client Faults WaMu Layout in Robbery

A man sues, claiming the new open interior made him a target for a bandit who took $20,805.
Open dealings
By E. Scott Reckard
Times Staff Writer

October 2, 2006

Washington Mutual Inc. says it moved tellers out from behind counters to encourage "friendly customer service in a welcoming retail environment," a design it proudly patented.

WaMu customer Jaime Quiroz Sanchez, a real estate agent and landlord from Lancaster, says the coffeehouse approach to banking got him robbed at knifepoint of $20,805.

As Sanchez explains it, he was mugged outside the Palmdale branch in April by a man who had seen his cash at one of WaMu's "teller towers," kiosks arranged in a circle where khaki-clad employees stand in close proximity to customers, without a teller window or glass barrier in sight.

More than a dozen people looked on as the teller took the money out of two small envelopes, holding $100 bills up one at a time for inspection, then walked away to confer with the branch manager.

"It seemed like an eternity to me," Sanchez recalled. "He left $20,000 sitting on that little podium. How many times have you looked at a pile of money like that? I looked to the right and the left, and everyone was looking at me. And I could tell the people weren't having good thoughts."

In a lawsuit filed in Los Angeles County Superior Court in August, Sanchez accused Washington Mutual of negligence and reckless misconduct. The Seattle-based savings and loan, the nation's largest, hasn't filed an answer to the suit, which seeks punitive damages and damages for emotional injuries in addition to the stolen sum.

"As a crime victim, he deserves our sympathy," said WaMu spokesman Timothy J. McGarry. But McGarry declined to discuss specifics of the case, citing the litigation.

In Sanchez's view, the staff at WaMu's Palmdale branch had every reason to accommodate him. Though his personal deposits were at other banks, he had about a dozen mortgages with WaMu on his personal and investment properties as well as credit lines secured by the real estate.

Sanchez said most employees knew him well because for several years he had visited the branch at least once a month to make mortgage payments and conduct other business.

He said the $20,805 in cash consisted of rental payments from his tenants and that he wanted to combine that money with his credit lines to obtain a $375,000 cashier's check to buy a small office building.

According to Sanchez, the teller conferred with the branch manager and then refused to accept the cash deposit on the grounds that his driver's license had expired. Instead, the teller suggested that Sanchez renew the license at a nearby Department of Motor Vehicles office and return afterward, he said.

Sanchez said he told the teller he didn't feel comfortable leaving the branch with all that cash. "He said, 'I'm sorry, there's nothing we can do,' " Sanchez said.

According to Sanchez, the bank's security cameras recorded images of the bandit inside the branch and then outside as he left. The man accosted him as he approached his car, Sanchez said, and after a brief struggle robbed him at knifepoint and fled on foot. No arrest has been made.

Robert K. Scott, the Irvine attorney who filed the suit for Sanchez, said the new design of WaMu's Palmdale branch was faulty. Customers with large amounts of cash should be able to conduct transactions in private, he said. The robbery also could have been prevented if the thrift had held the cash until Sanchez could return with a renewed license, he said.

"At the very least, they could have had the security guard walk him out to his car," Scott said.

Washington Mutual has been in the vanguard of an industry push to open customer-friendly branches designed more like a Starbucks or a casual retail store than an old-fashioned bank. In 2004, WaMu even obtained a patent for its design, called Occasio, which features a "concierge" to greet customers, the free-standing stations where they discuss transactions with tellers and large graphics with such words as "Retirement," "College Education" and "Financial Security."

Critics, including New York City Mayor Michael R. Bloomberg, have complained that the bank's new approach to customer service may encourage robberies.

But Washington Mutual says it has addressed that problem — tellers at its newfangled branches don't have cash that a robber could reach. When customers deposit money, it is put through a slot leading to a safe box. If they want money they are given a ticket, which they can use along with a code to obtain cash from a machine in the branch.

"Obviously, the safety of our customers and employees is a paramount concern," McGarry said in an e-mail. "Security concerns were part of the Occasio design process, and we think it's significant that these branches are associated with a lower incidence of crime than our traditional branches."

The design may improve security for WaMu, attorney Scott said, but it did the opposite for Sanchez.

Sunday, October 01, 2006

Power battles peace in 'U.S. vs. Lennon'
Yoko Ono and Lennon in
Yoko Ono and Lennon in "The U.S. vs. John Lennon," a fascinating, chilling documentary.

September 29, 2006

All he was saying was not "Give peace a chance." When John Lennon and friends sang that song, and millions of anti-war protesters took up the chant, they were also saying "power to the people" (the name of another Lennon tune). And that, strangely, worried some of the nation's top crooks: J. Edgar Hoover at the FBI, and various officials in the Nixon White House.

Make no mistake, Beatlemania was big, and we'll probably never see anything like it again. But the idea, as writer and political activist Tariq Ali says in the documentary "The U.S. vs. John Lennon," that an artist -- even a former Fab Four mop-top -- could pose any kind of threat to the interests of the most powerful nation on earth, is patently ridiculous. Nevertheless, Lennon was put under surveillance by the FBI and -- with a gentle nudge in the form of a letter to the White House from Republican Sen. Strom Thurmond -- attempts were made to deport him, for purely political reasons, as an "undesirable alien."

"I'm just one of those faces, you know," Lennon said. "People never like me face."

When Nixon was re-elected by a landslide in 1972, Lennon was suddenly no longer a threat and the White House lost interest in him. The bureaucracy of the Immigration and Naturalization Service, however, kept churning away, and Lennon did not achieve legal victory, or his green card, until 1976. (He would live another four years.) Unclassified memos, from the FBI's Hoover to White House chief of staff H.R. Haldeman, showed improper political interference in an immigration proceeding. Imagine.

"The U.S. vs. John Lennon," written and directed David Leaf and John Scheinfeld, is remarkable mainly for being so tepid, given its charismatic protagonist and its setting during one of the most turbulent periods in modern American history. Even at 99 minutes, it feels padded, repetitious and unfocused, with too much time spent establishing Lennon's "rebel" bona fides and not nearly examining the preposterous (and ultimately failed) immigration case against him that stretched over 4½ years.

Also, probably because Yoko Ono's cooperation was essential to getting the film made, it unfairly whitewashes Lennon, strips him of much of his complexity, and eliminates any mention of his traumatic separation from Ono in 1973 and 1974, when he lived in Los Angeles.

Still, it's great to see a lot of this footage of Lennon -- playful, engaged, warm and spontaneous -- whether he and Yoko are being interviewed inside a large white bag (a hilarious scene), in a bed at the Amsterdam Hilton, or on the Mike Douglas or Dick Cavett shows. Lennon speaks of his legal dilemma as "Kafkaesque," but he also wryly appreciates the absurd humor of the situation. As his case drags on through seemingly endless appeals, he remarks that it's keeping the conservatives happy because at least it looks like they're doing something, and it's keeping the liberals happy because he hasn't actually been deported yet. So ... everybody's happy.

John and Yoko even came up with their own extra-legal attempt to fight the INS, by declaring themselves citizens of a new country, Newtopia, requesting recognition from the United Nations, and asking the U.S. for diplomatic immunity. Now that is a brilliant strategy. Of course, like most of Lennon's symbolic idealistic gestures, be they utopian or Newtopian, it didn't quite work. But that wasn't really the point, was it? For Lennon, the idea was always to show people that change was only possible once you believed it was possible.

"So, flower power didn't work. So what?" he tells a crowd at the concert for John Sinclair, who had served 2½ years (and was sentenced to 10) for giving two marijuana joints to an undercover policewoman. (This particular utopian gesture did work -- the Michigan Supreme Court ordered Sinclair released from prison a few days later.)

Lennon was always ready to grab the next wave. His and Yoko's publicity stunts for "peace" were condescendingly dismissed as silly, naive and even trivializing, but Lennon was dead serious about promoting the idea of peace: "We're selling it like soap, you know?" And in 1969, there was indeed something liberating and comforting in seeing those billboards (and, in 1971, hearing that song): "WAR IS OVER! (If you want it.) Happy Christmas from John and Yoko."

"The U.S. vs. John Lennon" touches on all of this, and a dose of idealism may be helpful at this deeply cynical moment in American history. (One can't help wondering what a 66-year-old Lennon would have made of Geraldo Rivera, interviewed here, as a Fox News correspondent.) When journalist Carl Bernstein speaks of politically motivated surveillance campaigns and refers to the Nixon administration as "a rogue presidency, a criminal presidency," you know the parallels the filmmakers intend you to draw.

Gore Vidal puts it bluntly. Lennon sang about love and peace and "represented life, and that is admirable," he says. "And Mr. Nixon, and Mr. Bush, represent death. And that is a bad thing."


THE U.S. VS. JOHN LENNON (PG-13)
Critic's rating: 3 stars

Featuring John Lennon, Yoko Ono, Carl Bernstein, Noam Chomsky, Walter Cronkite, Angela Davis, Ron Kovic, G. Gordon Liddy, George McGovern, David Peel, Geraldo Rivera, Bobby Seale, John Sinclair, Tom Smothers, Jon Weiner and Leon Wildes.

Authorized Pictures and Lions Gate present a documentary written, produced and directed by David Leaf and John Scheinfeld. Running time: 99 minutes. Rated PG-13 (for some strong language, violent images and drug references).
Jim Emerson is the editor of
www.rogerebert.com.

Lifting the veil from Hollywood movie ratings



Mercury News

The first question people always ask about the documentary ``This Film Is Not Yet Rated'' is, well . . . duh: What is it rated?

The answer is more complicated than you might imagine. Following its story about the picture, one newspaper was forced to run the following clarification on that subject, certainly one of the most humbling corrections ever published: ``A Washington Post article incorrectly indicated that the movie `This Film Is Not Yet Rated' is rated NC-17. It is unrated.''

Oh.

The documentary, which opened here Friday, originally did receive the most restrictive NC-17 rating from the Motion Picture Association of America, the very ratings organization whose work the movie examines. The MPAA has been giving its letter-grade ratings of G, PG, PG-13, R and NC-17 (formerly X) since 1968.

But because IFC Films, which is releasing the documentary, is not a member of the MPAA, it has the option of rejecting the judgment of the secretive ratings board. And that's what director Kirby Dick knew he would do all along. But in this case, getting the dreaded NC-17 rating -- which means newspapers won't carry ads for the film -- was half the fun.

Dick wasn't interested in examining the long history of Hollywood censorship -- particularly as it was practiced under the restrictive Hays Code from 1930 to 1967 -- feeling that the MPAA already used comparisons to that system as a way to make its own ratings program look less draconian. The MPAA devised the current system as a form of self-regulation, but the only reason the ratings have any teeth is that the studios -- which formed the MPAA as their lobbying operation -- are one of the few remaining monoliths in the business world.

``It's certainly a cartel when six studios control 95 percent of the film business, and they run the rating system without any kind of openness, or recourse if you feel you've been aggrieved,'' Dick says. ``I think it's an open question whether it's unconstitutional, but nobody's willing to sue the MPAA because you'd have to be an injured party, which means you're in the film business. And it wouldn't stand you in good stead to sue 95 percent of the business you're in.''

That proved to be an obstacle as he and the film's producers were lining up industry people to talk about their experiences with the ratings board. ``I thought when I started that I would have no trouble getting filmmakers for interviews,'' Dick says, ``because so many people had had their films unfairly rated. I quickly found out people were afraid that if they spoke to me, they would be branded as troublemakers, and treated more harshly in the future.''

Using outtakes from ``Team America,'' a comedy starring puppets, ``This Film Is Not Yet Rated'' demonstrates just how ludicrous the process can become. The movie depicts two marionettes having sex, which the ratings board judged to be too explicit until the filmmakers cut several shots -- of wooden dolls, remember -- and got an R. Dick says he also was told that one of the ``Scary Movie'' sequels was threatened with an NC-17 rating because of a scene in which the Invisible Man was receiving an act of oral gratification. Never mind that it was impossible to actually see anything because he was, um, invisible.

The documentary also suggests that the ratings board punishes gay sex more severely than straight sex. ``The homophobia was very extreme,'' Dick says. He illustrates this by showing two identical encounters side by side. One involves a man and a woman having sex, and is rated R; the other shows two men going through exactly the same exertions, and gets an NC-17 rating.

And sex of any kind is far likelier to receive a restrictive rating than a film that contains violence. Because the ratings are controlled by an industry that gears most of its films toward an adolescent audience, Dick believes the system is skewed in favor of the sort of violence that teenage boys enjoy.

``This is a system that helps the studios' bottom line, and hurts the bottom line of their competitors, the independent and foreign films that tend to deal more with adult sexuality,'' he says. ``It's not really about morality, it's about how to make the most money.''

He is as unopposed to the profit motive as any big studio, and unabashedly promotes the idea that Americans can register their opposition to the ratings system by plunking down serious cash to see his movie. ``Hollywood listens to money, and if this film does well at the box office, they're going to know that a lot of people are very angry,'' Dick says. ``That is probably the best way that people can contribute to pressuring Hollywood on this.'' (In limited release since Sept. 1, the picture so far has grossed less than $200,000, a figure unlikely to bring the studios to their knees.)

The documentary is unconventional in several ways, the most obvious of which is that Dick hires a private investigator -- on camera -- and then follows her as she stakes out the MPAA offices, attempting to uncover the secret identities of the ratings board members. Dick and his gumshoes spent months figuring out which cars emerging from the MPAA's garage belonged to raters, then following them to lunches or to their homes.

The trick was conducting their cloak-and-dagger operation in secret, so that when the ratings board saw ``This Film Is Not Yet Rated'' for the first time, it also would be the first time they realized they'd been outed. ``When that film went in'' to determine its rating, Dick says, ``I think they were 100 percent caught off guard. There was a certain pleasure in that.''

All Dick's previous films have been released without a rating, an option that would be unavailable to him if he wanted to work for 20th Century Fox, Warner Bros., Paramount, Universal, Sony, Disney or any of their divisions. (All studio pictures are required to be submitted to the ratings board, and the initial decision can be appealed, or the film can be re-edited and submitted again for a less restrictive rating.) ``I came up with the idea of submitting the film to get a rating because I knew I could then follow myself through the system,'' he says. ``But I didn't have any idea the appeals board was going to end up being as surreal as it was.''

Unable to record his phone conversations with members of the appeals board without their permission, Dick re-enacts them in the film, using recordings of his voice and animated figures as stand-ins for the raters. All of which certainly heightens the surreal effect.

The film contends that members of the ratings board have no training for the job; that there are no child psychologists present, but there is a member of the clergy on the board; that the MPAA's claims that the board is made up of parents with children between the ages of 5 and 17 were untrue; and that there are few minorities among the raters.

``If the whole system's secret, then no one can really know who's making these judgments,'' Dick says. ``The MPAA claims this rating system is for the public. Well, if it's for the public, it should be public.''

One of the questions raised by ``This Film Is Not Yet Rated'' is whether Dick's guerrilla style -- some might even call it vigilante filmmaking -- is any better than the methods used by the MPAA that he deplores.

``I think it's my obligation as an investigative filmmaker to get as much information to the public as possible,'' he says. ``I had no qualms about it being the right thing to do. We didn't harass those people, we didn't stalk them, we just got a short video clip of them. This is information that there is no reason for them to be hiding, unless they have something to hide. And as we found out, they do.''

`This Film Is Not Yet Rated'

***

Opened Friday.

Rated No MPAA rating (could be R for violence and sexuality in movie clips)

Director Kirby Dick

Running time 1 hour, 37 minutes

Booked-Up Publishers Could Be in a Bind

Dozens of titles from big-name authors will all be on shelves soon. Marketers are trying new approaches to stand out from the crowd.

By Josh Getlin
Times Staff Writer

October 1, 2006

NEW YORK — This fall, the largest number of new titles by brand-name authors in recent memory is hitting bookstores, and the publishing world is asking itself an unusual question: Can there be too many good books?

As Michael Cader, founder of Publishers Lunch, a book industry website, put it, "There's a legitimate question whether this is too much at once, whether the market can handle it. There are just so many of them."

The situation has publishers trying novel marketing and publicity strategies as they struggle to get attention for their authors.

There are new books from bestselling "blockbuster" types such as John Grisham, making his first foray into nonfiction; John Le Carré; Stephen King; Michael Crichton; Robert Ludlum; James Patterson; Dean Koontz; Michael Connelly; Tess Gerritsen; David Baldacci; and Danielle Steel, all of whom rarely, if ever, publish a sales dud.

In literary fiction, there are new novels from Margaret Atwood, Cormac McCarthy, Isabel Allende, Richard Ford, Mary Gordon, and Charles Frazier, his first since "Cold Mountain" 10 years ago. There is Alice Munro's latest short-story collection, and the last installment of Lemony Snicket's "A Series of Unfortunate Events" children's books.

There is a new nonfiction title from Michael Lewis, along with the second volume of Gore Vidal's memoirs, and eagerly awaited books from icons who publish very infrequently, such as Thomas Pynchon, "Silence of the Lambs" author Thomas Harris, and Joseph Wambaugh, who has his first LAPD novel since 1983. There is hot-potato political nonfiction from Bob Woodward, Frank Rich, Bill O'Reilly, Andrew Sullivan, John Ashcroft and Sen. Barack Obama (D-Ill.), plus a biography of Colin L. Powell.

All will be filling bookstores between now and Thanksgiving, in what is traditionally publishing's heaviest season. "It's raised the bar for everyone in the business, at the most crucial time of the year," said Sandi Mendelson, a veteran book publicist in New York.

The exposure publishers like best — a TV appearance for an author — is less of an option, according to David Rosenthal, executive vice president and publisher of Simon & Schuster. "There are too many new books to fill these slots on news, cable and magazine shows," he said. "So you have to think outside the box."

At Simon & Schuster, for example, publicists and marketing directors have been reaching out to bloggers to boost Robert Harris' political thriller "Imperium: A Novel of Ancient Rome."

"This isn't something I was doing a year ago, but I think it's a huge opportunity for us now," said marketing director Leah Wasielewski. "I got a fantastic response from some bloggers, and it makes sense because this approach allows us to target consumers directly and gauge their interest. You go right to the source."

Among the sites that Wasielewski contacted were Bread and Circuses (http://adrianmurdoch. typepad.com/bread_and_ circuses), which deals with the later Roman empire; Prettier than Napoleon (http://bamber.blogspot.com ), a blog on literary and legal issues; and Mental Multivitamin (http://mentalmultivitamin.blogspot.com ) a literary site. All three generated reviews of "Imperium," she said.

But while many authors routinely use the Internet to communicate with their fan base through personal blogs and websites, some publishing executives, such as Daniel Menaker, editor-in-chief of the Random House Publishing Group, are just now beginning to understand the medium. "For me the Web is like a teenager's room," Menaker said. "It can be very messy, and you don't quite know how to bring order to it. But you can't ignore it. You have to deal with it."

Of course, the big fall books will still have to be promoted the old-fashioned way. The Random House marketing campaign for Frazier's "Thirteen Moons," for example, includes heavy newspaper, magazine and broadcast advertising, plus a retro-feeling book tour during which the author — by choice — will be driving to about 15 cities in the South and Midwest.

Other authors whose names are not as recognizable will probably be scrambling to get whatever scraps of publicity they can. And while the bounty of new titles could generate more traffic in bookstores, publishers realize they may well pay a price for putting so much out there.

"It's a double-edged sword," Menaker said. "I think lots of people will come into the stores to buy one book, and then maybe buy another. But they won't buy 10."

Some observers wonder if publishers — eager to boost profits in what has been a financially lackluster year — have miscalculated and flooded the stores with too much. Nowadays, big books open like Hollywood movies, with on-sale dates planned months in advance. Publishers choose those dates carefully, hoping to avoid competition with similar fiction and nonfiction books from rival houses.

Unlike Hollywood studios, which can hold movies or schedule them with more precise timing, publishers have much more product to move and are at the mercy of their writers' abilities to actually deliver manuscripts. In a year that failed to produce a breakout book early on, many publishers packed as many big titles as possible into the fall season, despite the risk of over-saturating the literary market.

Jerome Kramer, editor-in-chief of Kirkus Reviews, said it might have made more sense to hold some titles back. "Publishing is caught up in the blockbuster mentality, and there was a clear pattern this year of saving everything up for the holiday season," Kramer said.

But few houses have the luxury of delaying the release of a product for nine months, as Sony Pictures did with its film "All the King's Men."

Indeed, publishers are betting that the sheer number of hot titles, many from authors with huge fan bases, will generate heavy bookstore traffic and online buying, which benefits all of them.

But there are predictable dips in buying behavior for any book. Readers often rush to buy a title in its first week, but then sales taper off. The heaviest and most sustained buying activity traditionally takes place after Thanksgiving, making this season's glutted market harder to gauge.

For booksellers and readers, however, the new season is something to savor. At Vroman's Bookstore in Pasadena, general manager Allison Hill was upbeat. "There's no downside to a plethora of good books," she said. "Not for sellers, for customers, or anyone."

Margaret Maupin, a buyer at the Tattered Cover Book Store in Denver, believes the profusion of good books will get people talking. "This could be the year," she said, "when people buy one or two more books than they planned — and one less DVD."


(INFOBOX BELOW)

Coming to shelves

Here are some of the bigger titles recently released or set to be published this fall:

September

"State of Denial: Bush at War, Part III" by Bob Woodward (Simon & Schuster)

Woodward's latest glimpse inside the Bush White House depicts administration officials incapable of working together and in disarray over the war in Iraq. Woodward's trademark use of anecdotes is here in abundance, as in his previous books on the Bush administration, "Plan of Attack" and "Bush at War."

"Moral Disorder and Other Stories" by Margaret Atwood (Nan Talese/Doubleday)

The author of "The Handmaid's Tale" and "The Blind Assassin" offers a vibrant book of linked stories, her first collection in 15 years. With characteristic precision, Atwood renders a powerful portrait of a family's pain and domestic turmoil.

October

"Soldier: The Life of Colin Powell" by Karen DeYoung (Alfred A. Knopf)

A comprehensive portrait of the son of Jamaican immigrants who rose to become Joint Chiefs of Staff chairman and then secretary of State in George W. Bush's first administration. The book also includes Powell's struggle with the idea of running for president in 2000 as well as the strains of making the case for war with Iraq.

"The Innocent Man" by John Grisham (Doubleday)

Grisham's first nonfiction book explores accusations of murder and rape in an Oklahoma town and questions the convictions of two men, one a former major league ballplayer, arguing that these were based on junk science and dubious jailhouse witnesses.

"The Lay of the Land" by Richard Ford (Alfred A. Knopf)

In this, the third volume of the Sportswriter trilogy, Frank Bascombe has reached his mid-50s, the so-called Permanent Period of his life. But what does this mean, Ford's novel asks, and what does Frank do now? Taking place over Thanksgiving week 2000, the novel brings Frank full circle as he navigates the deep, still waters of middle-class American life.

"A Series of Unfortunate Events, Book 13: The End" by Lemony Snicket (HarperCollins)

In the finale to the series, the Baudelaire children are stranded on a desert island that's beautiful and peaceful — until the arrival of the relentless Count Olaf. The friendly island natives are led by a man with a mysterious book containing secrets about the children's parents, who died in a fire in Book 1.

November

"Against the Day" by Thomas Pynchon (Penguin Press)

Pynchon's first novel in nine years begins with the 1893 Chicago World's Fair, but to call it a historical fiction is to miss the point. Rather, it's a kaleidoscopic view of humanity at a crossroads, moving from Chicago to Siberia to the Hollywood of the Silent Age, and interweaving historical figures as diverse as Nikola Tesla and Groucho Marx.

"Lisey's Story" by Stephen King (Scribner)

This one is a departure by King — a book about the widow of a writer, and the process by which she comes to terms with her husband's loss. Of course, no King novel would be complete without a touch of horror, but the real subject here is the transformative, and lasting, power of love.

"Inés of My Soul: A Novel" by Isabel Allende (HarperCollins)

A sweeping historical novel of the founding of Chile. A young wife travels to the New World in the 16th century to look for her missing husband and finds love instead with a soldier intent on building a utopian society amid the harsh conditions of colonial life.

December

"Hannibal Rising: A Novel" by Thomas Harris (Delacorte Press)

This novel recounts the origins of that brilliant murderer with a taste for human flesh, Hannibal Lecter of "Silence of the Lambs." A tormented orphan on the Eastern Front, Lecter is taken to France and raised by a painter uncle and his exotic wife. There, his interests in art, food and cruelty are indulged.
washingtonpost.com
Unwarranted
In Most Cases, Extended Product Service Plans Don't Benefit Consumers

By Terence O'Hara
Washington Post Staff Writer
Sunday, October 1, 2006; F01

You buy a $119 cordless phone system at Wal-Mart. As you're checking out, the cashier asks if you'd like to put another two years on the manufacturer's warranty. Cost: $29.

What do you do?

While consumer groups and common sense would urge you to resoundingly reject the offer, an entire industry has been built on the likelihood that you will act on impulse and say, "Yes."

Each year, millions of people gladly pay an additional 10 to 50 percent of a product's original price to extend a warranty. These snap purchases help fuel a booming, $15 billion-a-year business and feed a lucrative profit stream for retailers that sell the warranties and companies that underwrite them. Many consumers do so because they say the plans provide them with peace of mind.

The decision to buy an extended warranty, however, defies the recommendations of economists, consumer advocates and product quality experts, who all warn that the plans rarely benefit consumers and are nearly always a waste of money.

"The things make no rational sense," Harvard economist David Cutler said. "The implied probability that [a product] will break has to be substantially greater than the risk that you can't afford to fix it or replace it. If you're buying a $400 item, for the overwhelming number of consumers that level of spending is not a risk you need to insure under any circumstances."

Extended warranties, first introduced in high-pressure fashion by big electronics stores in the late 1980s, have become a core product sold by all kinds of retailers, covering everything from bicycles to wedding jewelry.

The warranties, often marketed as service plans, are technically insurance products on which the premiums are paid in a lump sum at time of purchase. Extended warranties generally lengthen the coverage provided by the manufacturer's own warranty on a product. The plans are backed by an insurance company that promises to repair or replace the covered item should it break or malfunction. While terms vary widely, the plans typically last from one to three years.

In terms of service, most warranty providers use third-party contractors to repair broken items, and consumers do not get to choose who performs a covered repair. Many policies do not cover accidents or normal wear and tear -- the most common causes of breakdowns in common household goods.

But most important, consumer advocates say, the vast majority of extended warranties are never used, simply because most products do not need a repair or, worse, the extended-warranty provider refuses to cover the repair or makes it such a hassle that it makes more sense to pay for it on your own.

"All you have to do is see how aggressively these things are sold at the point of sale," said Jean Ann Fox, director of consumer protection for the Consumer Federation of America, a District-based nonprofit association of 300 consumer groups. "It's not a good buy under most circumstances."

Under Pressure

Many consumers who normally would resist the hard sell on the warranties occasionally give in. Adam Weiner, a 24-year-old computer engineer who lives in Arlington, last month bought a 37-inch Sharp LCD television for $1,644. He paid $450, or an additional 27 percent, for a five-year extended service warranty.

"I usually don't buy" extended warranties, he said. "But the [television] cost so much. It's impossible to buy a decent flat screen for less than a grand. I wanted to protect my investment."

Weiner's desire to safeguard his new television speaks volumes about how extended warranties play upon a basic human trait to avoid loss, even if it means sacrificing a possible future gain. In this case, the gain is all the other things of value that a consumer could buy with the money that was spent on a warranty.

The instinct to protect what we have and forgo the obvious benefits of another course is one long studied by behavioral economists. Kevin McCabe, an economist and director of the Center for the Study of Neuroeconomics at George Mason University, said that even without knowing from experience that a product will break, many people insure it anyway.

"I suspect that this behavior is in part due to our sensitivity to uncertainty in general," he said.

That reliance on gut instinct points to an inherent disadvantage for consumers in the purchase process, economists and consumer advocates say. Buying an extended warranty is vastly different from selecting most other insurance products. When buying car insurance, for instance, it's relatively easy to make an informed decision by comparing terms and prices among different carriers. The power struggle between buyer and seller is relatively balanced.

But when deciding whether to buy an extended warranty, it is nearly impossible to comparison shop from the checkout counter. And, because the insurance and service companies are invisible at the time of sale, consumers can't verify their financial health or reliability.

Then, there's the obvious question that may not occur to many buyers.

"Why do I need an extended warranty on a phone I'm going to replace in two years anyway? Or one year?," said Greg Brue, a quality consultant and expert on product life cycles who runs Six Sigma Consultants Inc. in Albuquerque.

Making a Claim

To find out more about how extended warranties are sold, a Washington Post reporter recently visited several big-box retailers and asked sales personnel about plans offered at those stores. None of the salespeople would speak on the record, and each referred the reporter to a spokesman for the store's parent company.

Bill Cimino, a spokesman for Circuit City Stores Inc., said that extended warranties may not be right for every customer.

"It's an individual customer decision," he said. "It's something we offer customers in the same way we offer any other product."

Three years ago, Circuit City eliminated commissions for salespeople to sell extended warranties, though they are trained to make sure customers know about the warranties and their benefits, he said. "You can take the literature home," he said. "You don't have to buy it at the time of sale."

Many consumers heed that advice. Ivan Strasfeld, a 56-year-old government lawyer, recently bought a high-priced refrigerator at Foremost Appliances in Washington and he held firm against buying an extended warranty, despite the hard sell. He said he would never buy such a service plan unless he knew that the product he it protected was guaranteed to break.

"If all these stores are pushing them so hard, it means they're only making a lot of money off them and repairing very little," he said.

By the industry's own calculations, Strasfeld is right. Warranty Week, an industry publication, last year estimated that of the $15 billion in premiums charged consumers in 2004, $7.5 billion went straight into the pockets of the stores that sell warranties as their cut.

Of the remaining $7.5 billion, the publication estimated that $3 billion was paid in claims by the insurance companies that back the plans. On the other hand, according to the Insurance Information Institute in 2004, the U.S. auto insurance industry paid out $66 in claims for every $100 in premiums.

Neither Circuit City nor Best Buy discloses how much of its bottom line comes from extended warranty sales. But analysts have estimated that at least 50 percent and in some lean years 100 percent of profits at the electronics retailers come from extended warranty sales.

Those profits are made possible by third-party providers such as N.E.W. Customer Service Cos., a Dulles private company that has grown 35 percent annually in recent years to become the largest independent extended service provider. This summer, it was sold to a private investor group for $1.2 billion.

N.E.W.'s chairman and founder, Fred Schaufeld, acknowledges that his industry has a history of being unfriendly to consumers. He said, however, that one of the reasons for N.E.W.'s success is the way the company has been "revolutionizing" the business by providing real service and value to customers -- a kind of "product care" service rather than an insurance product -- such that extended warranties become a loyalty-enhancing tool for retailers.

And after gaining huge amounts of business managing extended-service plans for dozens of retailers and other consumer goods sellers, he is not done yet.

"I can see a day when you'd buy an extended service plan for your expensive Italian shoes," Schaufeld said in a recent interview.

Sales Insurance

For a wide variety of consumer goods makers, from Ford Motor Co. to Dell Inc., extended warranty revenue has become as important a part of business as the cars or computers themselves. And several major appliance makers in recent years have scaled back their standard manufacturer's warranty to one year, leaving an opening for third parties to capitalize by offering extended warranties.

That trend troubles Six Sigma Consultants' Brue. The heavy reliance on extended warranties as a significant source of short-term profit can have the perverse effect of rewarding quality lapses, he said. Plus, Brue thinks such warranties are bad for consumers.

"It's a legal way of stealing from people," he said. "Good companies will fix their products."

Brue, a longtime consultant on manufacturing processes who helped implement General Electric Co.'s renowned quality programs in the 1990s, said that most basic electronic components are so well made "they won't fail in 100 years, much less three." According to quarterly customer satisfaction surveys compiled by the University of Michigan, consumers generally agree: Buyers of cars, computers and other durable goods are generally happier with their purchases now than at any time since 2000.

For these reasons, as well as the ever-falling replacement cost of most consumer products (just look at the collapse in DVD prices in the past five years), Consumer Reports recommends almost never buying an extended warranty, especially on automobiles.

But even Consumer Reports has made a few exceptions. Last year, for the first time, the magazine found that repairs on some products -- laptop PCs, treadmills and plasma TV sets -- were common enough and expensive enough that a decently priced extended warranty would make sense. Plasma televisions, the magazine said, run hot and are still considered a relatively new consumer technology.

Plus, dragging bulky, large-screen televisions into a repair shop is impractical for most consumers. Many extended service warranty programs offer in-home repairs.

For Weiner, the owner of a new LCD television set, a deciding factor on the extended warranty is that the package included home repair, saving him from the possibility of having to haul the set to the shop.

"I don't want to hassle with that," he said.

Cimino said that customers should always consider how -- and by whom -- a product will be used. For example, the basic electronics that run a Nintendo Game Boy will last until a child loses interest. The buttons, however, are a different matter altogether and can break far more easily. Usually, on such products, Circuit City's extended warranty will simply replace the item.

Even cynics such as Strasfeld buys extended warranties on some products.

"Just the fax machine," he said. "Ours get such heavy usage, they always break."