Most economists agree that the key to sustained increases in standard of living and prosperity is productivity, constantly becoming more efficient in our offices, factories and with everyday tasks.

I’ve lately felt bombarded by a mainstay of American life that saps our communal productivity: the collection and handling of basic personal data such as name, address, phone number and dozens more info tidbits gathered through forms, sometimes on a computer screen but most likely on paper.

I’ve got kids in the Poudre School District. With every kindergarten registration, musical instrument selected, field trip, even every deviation from the normal bus ride home, either my wife or I need to fill out a paper form. I seem to be writing emergency contact phone numbers daily now. Don’t they keep this stuff?

How many times have you been asked, “Are you allergic to any medications?” In my case, hundreds of times.

I recently made my first visit to a particular doctor, having been instructed to arrive 15 minutes early to allow time to complete the forms. Most questions had been asked, verbatim, in 1999, 1989 and 1979.

Whether dealing with the government (federal, state and local), health care, insurance (life, property and medical), education and umpteen more entities, the average American is repeating the same base-level information thousands of times over a lifetime. What a waste of time for the interrogatee, but that’s the tip of the iceberg.

On the receiving end of this repetition are armies of people that we pay, via higher prices or taxes, to receive, transcribe, record and archive hundreds of exact copies of that information.

President Barack Obama allocated money to computerize medical records, a smart start. Imagine how much money businesses, school systems and government agencies could save if basic personal information were centrally stored, updated, managed and protected.

Granted, our personal data changes, so don’t these entities need to ask for fresh information? Yes, and they do, constantly and inefficiently. How many times have you been asked, “Are you still living at your address?” One common, constantly refreshed database would render that question and dozens more obsolete. Imagine moving and announcing your mailing address only once.

When you revisit your Amazon.com account, you log in and all of your mundane information instantly appears. No need to re-enter your mailing address each time you order another book. Why can’t switching insurance companies, visiting a new doctor or signing Junior up to play trombone be just as efficient?

Critics worry that if such an all-encompassing database existed, the government would be tempted to abuse the privilege, invade our lives and disclose our secrets. But that concern is as archaic as a mimeograph.

The government already knows all about you, but not in one system under one set of rules, rather on dozens of systems, each with its own security measures. The IRS, SSA, Medicare, Postal Service, state of Colorado, Larimer County, city of Fort Collins – these entities all maintain different databases, each with their own vulnerabilities. Also, that’s a lot of computing redundancy and unnecessary expense, paid with our taxes.

Why can’t we, as individuals with full schedules, and as a society that can no longer pay its bills, leap to a new level of efficiency?