Illustration by Doug Boehm

Arizona boasts some of the toughest DUI laws in the nation. But how tough is too tough?

Beverly Mason Biggers has a good reason – the most personal of reasons, in fact – for devoting herself to the fight against drunk driving: After sucking down a dozen margaritas one evening in 1992, an inebriated driver climbed into his car and killed her brother on a Tucson roadway. She generously acknowledges that the tragedy devastated not only her family, but the driver and his family, too.

“In the case of the man who killed my brother, he woke up not knowing what he did,” says Biggers, program specialist for the Arizona chapter of Mothers Against Drunk Driving (MADD). “Unfortunately, he lost 12 years of his life in prison. My family lost a son and brother. We’re all victims.”

Thanks to pro-sober-driving activists such as Biggers, Arizonans of today are less likely to suffer the anguish that she and her family were forced to endure 20 years ago. Over the past two decades, activists have successfully bolstered DUI laws across the United States. And they proudly take credit for plummeting accident and vehicular death rates. In Arizona, fatal accident rates plunged 62 percent between 2000 and 2009, according to the U.S. National Highway Traffic Safety Administration (NHTSA). Biggers ascribes these encouraging trends to the advent of “ignition interlock devices and high-visibility law enforcement techniques” such as sobriety checkpoints – both aggressive anti-DUI measures for which MADD continues to lobby vigorously.

Getting dangerously-impaired drivers off the road is a cause that everybody – from MADD activists to barkeeps to criminal defense attorneys – can get behind. But as the zero-tolerance movement grows, and as DUI laws stiffen to remarkable extremes, doubts arise. Some Arizonans wonder how much of the impetus behind ever-harsher DUI penalties is generated out of genuine concern for safer roads, and how much is wrapped up in revenue streams and prohibitionist ideology. They question the broad initiative afforded public-safety officers to mete out DUI citations, and consider the possible long-term stigmas that accompany a single DUI arrest. Ultimately, they look for the point at which good-sense, liberty-minded lawmaking ends and nanny-state intrusion begins.

One fact is beyond debate: From a financial and legal perspective, driving under the influence of alcohol – even at levels below the .08 percent blood-alcohol percentage (BAP) ceiling set by law – has never been more dangerous or costly. After a decade-long push, Arizona has one of the toughest DUI cultures in the nation. Getting “popped” in Arizona is expensive ($1,493 in fines and fees for lowest-level convictions, not including massive auto insurance hikes and attorney costs) and punitive (90-day suspended driver’s license and mandatory jail time). Arizona is also one of 15 states to mandate ignition interlock devices for all first-time convicted drunk drivers; the breathalyzer-based device remains in the car for six months and typically adds about $600 to a first-time offender’s DUI bill. The Arizona anti-DUI toolbox also includes sobriety checkpoints and enhanced no-refusal laws that punish suspected drunk drivers for declining blood tests. For these and other reasons, MADD recently awarded Arizona a five-star rating for its drunk driving efforts – one of just four states so designated.

“Not long ago, Arizona only got a C rating from MADD,” Biggers says. “We’ve come a long way in a short amount of time.”

One common misconception about DUI law is that drunk-driving suspects are immune from arrest if their BAP registers lower than the .08 legal limit. Not so, says Mesa criminal defense attorney Jason Squires. The Arizona statute that governs DUI law (28-1381) states that “it is unlawful for a person to drive or be in actual physical control of a vehicle… if the person is impaired to the slightest degree.” Empowered by the “slightest degree” wording, peace officers enjoy broad interpretive freedom to make arrests. You might not feel intoxicated after those two glasses of mid-shelf California zinfandel – and, in fact, you might blow a .04 – but if the cop on the scene judges you to be impaired, you could go to jail. “That’s why I never drive after even one drink,” Squires says. “I call a cab or get a ride. It’s the only way to be sure.”

Squires knows first-hand how liberally Arizona’s DUI law can be applied to suspected drunk drivers. In 2008, his wife, Heather – who also works as his legal assistant – was arrested in Mesa for driving under the influence of alcohol and having a BAP over the legal limit. It was a remarkable feat on her part, considering that she had nothing to drink. Not a single, solitary sip. At the time of her arrest, her blood-alcohol content was 0.00.

Four years after the fact, the story still beggars belief. It began with a night of social drinking at Chuy’s in Tempe. Squires was helping a college buddy from Tucson celebrate his admission to law school. The men had asked Heather to serve as designated driver, and it was fortunate they did – Squires estimates that he, his brother-in-law and his college friend drained at least four pitchers of beer that night. Heather dutifully abstained.