A Keyless World of Open Secrets: A Satirical Odyssey, By Chris Knight (Florida)
In the land of ten thousand lakes, Minnesota has boldly ventured where no state has gone before: a keyless utopia, courtesy of Statute 325E.3892, the "Lead and Cadmium in Consumer Products; Prohibition" law, effective July 1, 2025. Aimed at shielding children from the perils of heavy metals, this noble decree has inadvertently outlawed the humble key, those brass gatekeepers of homes, cars, boats, and motorcycles, due to their lead content exceeding the state's stringent 0.009% limit. As locksmiths wail and keys vanish, Minnesota transforms into a surreal landscape where every lock is obsolete, every secret laid bare, and chaos reigns with a mischievous grin.
Picture a Minnesota morning, July 1, 2025. The sun glints off Lake Minnetonka, and citizens awake to a world without keys. Front doors swing wide, car ignitions gape invitingly, and boat hatches flap like loose lips. "No more lead poisoning!" declares Governor Tim Walz, sipping coffee from a lead-free mug, as his mansion's doors hang ajar. The state's locksmiths, led by Rob Justen of Doyle Security Products, stand in picket lines, clutching banned brass keys like relics of a lost era. "Seventy-five percent of our stock is illegal!" Justen laments, as a passer-by offers him a hemp-woven keychain, now also contraband.
Homes become public thoroughfares. In Minneapolis, neighbours wander into each other's kitchens, mistaking them for co-ops. "Is this my Instant Pot or yours?" asks Karen from St. Paul, stirring a stranger's chili. Garages, once fortresses of lawnmowers and holiday decorations, are now community swap meets. A teenager in Duluth joyrides in a stranger's Prius, claiming, "It's not stealing if there's no key!" Car dealerships, unable to sell key-operated vehicles, pivot to pedal-powered scooters, branded "Lead-Free Liberty Rides." Socialism is everywhere.
Locksmiths, facing obsolescence, stage a rebellion. They propose aluminium keys, but as one grizzled smith tells Valley News Live, "Aluminium's too brittle, it snaps like a twig!" Steel rusts, titanium's too costly, and plastic keys melt in Minnesota's frigid winters. Desperate, they experiment with wooden keys, only for beavers to gnaw them into kindling. The Minnesota Pollution Control Agency (MPCA), unmoved, insists on compliance, recommending that "not typically accessible components" like key fob circuits be redesigned, sometime before the next Ice Age.
On X, the outrage is palpable. @Dictator_Walz posts, "Keys are illegal, but freedom isn't… yet!" while @jamiehanna2 quips, "Next up: banning doorknobs and reality!" The hashtag #KeylessMN trends, with memes of padlocks replaced by Post-it notes reading "Please Don't Enter." Yet, the MPCA stands firm, citing the Centers for Disease Control's warning that no amount of lead is safe for children. Keys, they argue, are a ticking time bomb in tiny hands.
Without keys, Minnesota becomes a bizarre experiment in transparency. Bank vaults stand open, spilling notes and darker secrets of international finance into the streets like a pirate's fever dream. Office buildings, once secured, host impromptu raves, with interns DJing on lead-free laptops. Even the state capitol's doors are propped open, allowing deer to wander into legislative sessions, nibbling on bills about PFAS bans. Privacy evaporates; diaries are public domain, and bathroom stalls are mere suggestions. "It's liberating!" claims a Mankato resident, livestreaming his laundry routine to a bewildered TikTok audience.
Crime, however, takes a surreal turn. Without locks, thieves are unemployed, replaced by "borrowers" who leave IOUs in empty jewellery boxes. "I borrowed your boat," reads one note on Lake Superior, "back by Tuesday, maybe." Police, now keyless themselves, patrol on unicycles, unable to secure their squad cars. The Minnesota House debates exemptions, but as MPR News reports, bipartisan efforts stall amid arguments over whether doorknobs are next.
The law's intent, to protect kids from lead's neurotoxic effects, is noble. The MPCA notes that even small amounts can impair brain development, causing behavioural issues and stunted growth. But as keys vanish, so does security. Rural Minnesotans, once reliant on locked sheds to protect snowmobiles, now chain them to trees, only to find the chains are also lead-tainted. Urban dwellers resort to ancient methods, hiring town criers to guard apartments with shouts of "All's clear!" until they're silenced for noise violations.
The MPCA suggests a three-year extension for key fob manufacturers to phase out lead solder, but for traditional keys, no reprieve is offered. Retailers like Dick Blick, already grappling with banned cadmium paints, now halt key sales, leaving Minnesotans to order from Wisconsin in a burgeoning black market. "It's like prohibition, but for padlocks," mutters a Rochester hardware store owner, smuggling brass blanks under cover of darkness.
By August 2025, Minnesota is a land of open secrets. Every door is a welcome mat, every car a communal ride-share. The state legislature, besieged by locksmiths and car dealers, considers amendments, but the MPCA's warnings about lead's dangers hold sway. Citizens adapt, embracing a keyless ethos. "Locks were oppressive anyway," declares a Minneapolis influencer, painting her door with lead-free glitter. Yet, as winter looms, @reason's X post rings true: "Locked out in Minnesota's frigid cold? At least you're safe from lead!"
In this keyless dystopia, Minnesota becomes a cautionary tale: a state so socialist pure it banned security itself. As every secret lies exposed, one question lingers, when the locks are gone, who guards the guardians? The answer, like the doors, remains wide open.
"Standard household keys may soon be illegal in Minnesota.
Starting in July, keys for cars, houses, and boats will be illegal under Minnesota's new statute, 325E.3892 LEAD AND CADMIUM IN CONSUMER PRODUCTS; PROHIBITION.
The new statute aims to ban everyday items containing a tiny percentage of lead and cadmium, which keys contain.
Many locksmiths have warned lawmakers that the new law will ban nearly all of their products because they contain more lead and cadmium than the state's new 0.09% limit.
Rob Justen of Doyle Security Products stated, "Approximately 75 percent of all products that we stock have become prohibited for sale."
Other locksmiths have warned that replacing the now-banned materials with aluminium or steel will make them too brittle and prone to rusting.
Per Reason:
Come July, common keys for houses, cars, boats, and motorcycles will be illegal in Minnesota, save for uncertain intervention from the state Legislature.
That's when the state's ban on the manufacture, sale, or import of keys, toys, dishes, and other common items containing more than a tiny percentage of lead or cadmium goes into effect.
The purpose of that law was to remove dangerous heavy metals from products that come into contact with children. The trouble is that almost all keys sold today have more lead than the new law's 0.09 percent limit on lead content.
Locksmiths have been warning that the state's lead ban will outlaw most of the products they sell. Alternative metals would require lengthy and expensive transition to using less functional materials, they say.
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