On Sept. 28, the Trump administration said it would temporarily waive the Jones Act, a century-old shipping law, to help get emergency supplies to Puerto Rico. Puerto Rico officials had urged the administration to waive the law because it was hindering relief efforts after Hurricane Maria wrecked the island.

 

The Jones Act, a little-known 1920 regulation, requires that goods shipped from one American port to another be transported on a ship that is American-built, American-owned and crewed by US citizens or permanent residents. The Jones Act prevents foreign-flagged ships from carrying cargo between U.S. mainland ports and between U.S. mainland ports and noncontiguous parts of the U.S., such as Puerto Rico, Hawaii, Alaska and Guam.

 

The law was intended to prop up the U.S. maritime industry, but it has critics like Shane Skelton, a policy adviser for the Alliance for Innovation and Infrastructure, who said that “Unfortunately the (negative impact) of the Jones Act really only comes to light when we have a catastrophe.”

 

But its costs are constant. A 2010 study by the University of Puerto Rico concluded that the island lost $537 million per year as a result of the law.

 

Because it is often faster and cheaper to move goods in the continental U.S. by rail, truck or pipeline than by ship, the Jones Act is less harmful within the 48 contiguous states than it is to Puerto Rico. Yet the International Trade Commission estimated it put a $656 million annual burden on the American economy.

 

Republican Sen. John McCain repeatedly has sought repeal of the Jones Act, calling it “an antiquated law that for too long hindered free trade, made U.S. industry less competitive and raised prices for American consumers.”

 

Why has the Jones Act, intended to support the U.S. maritime industries of shipbuilding and shipping, in fact, decimated U.S. shipbuilding? Is it worse than the declines in U.S. production or other products, such as steel and automobiles?

 

First of all, the steel and automobile manufacturing industries can have foreign manufacturers of these products within our shores. Secondly, the latter industries can employ foreigners. Sergio Marchionne, an Italian, is even CEO of Fiat-Chrysler.

 

How bad is the U.S. shipbuilding industry? The last ocean liner built in the U.S. was the SS United States in 1952.

 

Because of the Jones Act, American maritime companies face higher staffing requirements, pay higher wages and have more restrictive work rules. American companies’ high manufacturing costs preclude participating in the boom in cruiseship construction. It is ironic that millions of Americans take cruises that subsidize foreign companies.

 

The winners under the Jones Act — ship owners, ship manufacturers and unionized maritime workers — exploit our political process to preserve the status quo.

 

I saw the way the Jones Act undermines America’s competitiveness personally when I joined the board of Todd Shipyards in 1991.

 

At its zenith during World War II, Todd Shipyards was a major shipbuilder and Seattle’s second-biggest employer behind Boeing. By the time I joined Todd’s board, it had closed down its Brooklyn, New Orleans and Los Angeles shipyards. Its shipyard in Seattle used obsolete equipment, possessed little technical expertise and employed a handful of skilled employees.

 

Sadly, Todd’s story is replicated throughout America. The country’s only major ship construction is for the U.S. armed services. This is a pathetic legacy for a country that during World War II was a ship-building behemoth.

 

If we want to make America great again, rebuilding a robust shipbuilding industry is a legitimate goal. We have the necessary financial resources and technical skills. We could train hundreds of thousands of workers to perform the necessary tasks. These skilled workers could easily earn over $75,000 annually. We could supplement people with robots to bring down our labor costs.

 

I would gladly sacrifice a bottle of champagne to launch a new U.S.-built ocean liner!