Don’t you hate it when you do something stupid?

For my son Max, this happened two weeks ago when he left his gym bag on the 26 Strassbahn. He didn’t realize his mistake until hours later.

He asked if there was a Lost and Found for Wiener Linien, Vienna’s world-class transportation system. I browsed the web and found out about fundamt.gv.at, an incredible nationwide lost-and-found system. It’s an amazing site. Every single item is meticulously categorized. Even the contents of each bag are listed, with details like colors, materials, markings, and brand names.

After waiting a couple of days, we started searching. One item seemed promising. It matched the description and had been found on the right day. Here’s the listing, translated into English:

I went to the Zentrales Fundservice, just a few stops from my office. Unfortunately, the clerk had bad news—the item had already been collected. Worse, he said, it couldn’t have been Max’s bag because it also contained a passport.

“Okay,” I said, “I’ll keep searching the website.”

But the clerk had a better idea. He handed me a red book labeled Taschen, Koffer, Rucksäcke (“Bags, Suitcases, Backpacks”). It contained photos of every lost bag. I flipped through it and texted Max pictures of a few possibilities.

No luck. None of the photos matched. Max was bummed. We kept checking the website every few days, but eventually, we gave up.

Then, yesterday, a letter arrived in the mail addressed to Herr Max Reider.

Somehow, the Lost and Found office had located Max’s bag, identified him as the owner, found his address, and notified us. I went back to the Zentrales Fundservice to pick it up. Here’s the clerk handing it to me:

I texted Max the good news. Naturally, he asked the million-dollar question: “How did they find me?”

Here’s How They Did It

Inside Max’s gym bag was a small weight-training journal. Scribbled on the first page were the words “Max Reider Gym Book.”

As I mentioned earlier, the Lost and Found office meticulously documents the contents of every bag, looking for anything that can identify the owner. But how did they track him down with just his name?

Welcome to Austria. When you immigrate here or move to a new house, you’re required to file a residence form called the Meldezettel within three days. If you don’t, there are consequences. Thanks to this system, they were able to match Max’s name to our registered address.

The Meldezettel is required for many things in Austria, including:

• Opening a bank account
  
• Signing a lease
  
• Enrolling in school or university
  
• Registering for utilities
  
• Accessing healthcare
  
• Registering a vehicle
  
• Obtaining social services
  
• Employment
  
• Even registering a pet (shoutout to Leo)

In Austria, it’s nearly impossible to “fly under the radar.” You can’t hide behind a PO Box or file taxes under someone else’s address. The government knows where you are. In Max’s case, that system worked beautifully.

Back in the U.S., this might seem like the ultimate overreach—like killing a bald eagle with a hammer. “Government is evil,” we say in America.

But here in Europe, aside from the ultra-right fascists and ultra-left anarchists (a small but growing minority), people don’t think like that. It’s just not a thing.

While I’m thrilled to have Max’s bag back and deeply impressed with how efficiently they returned it, I didn’t expect to feel a pang of sadness. Sadness for my country, for what it could be, and for the direction it seems to be heading.