Bostonians are a unique breed of human being. They have many admirable qualities, but among their not-so-admirable qualities is a distinct blend of impatience, high-strung self-importance, a tendency to overreact, and a perennial inferiority complex toward a certain large city located approximately 220 miles to the southwest. Having lived here many years now, I think I can say all this with some accuracy.
For example, Logan Airport was among the first airports in the country to implement full-body scanners and "enhanced" pat-downs, to which have recently been added the Israeli-style Q&As that have made that country's airport security so famous. Notice I said added. Each new security measure is simply piled on top of all the previous ones; thus, in order to get on a plane at Logan, a hypothetical traveler will be required not only to take off her shoes, put her toiletries into plastic baggies, remove her laptop from its case, pass through a metal detector, and all the rest of the usual rigmarole, but she may also be strip-searched, frisked, and now interrogated. Feel like a criminal yet? Depending on where you're going, you might spend more time at the security checkpoint than in the air.
Another case in point: the Boston subway, commonly referred to as the "T" (short for MBTA, or Massachusetts Bay Transportation Authority), has spent the last few years climbing onto the security bandwagon. Not to be outdone by the National Security State formerly known as the New York subway, officials at the T have instituted a nexus of security policies that involves random bag searches, glowering police officers (often with dogs), a perpetual loop of public-service announcements, and CCTV surveillance cameras. Clearly it's important that we passengers never forget that we're in imminent danger of a terrorist attack. Because apparently we are.
Let me set the stage for you. Sometimes as often as twice a week, I pass a bag-search checkpoint either on my morning or evening commute. These checkpoints consist of a folding table with perhaps as many as five or six brightly clad security officers standing ominously around it. (When I say "brightly clad," I mean that literally. They are wearing what appear to be reflective yellow vests.) On this table is an impressive-looking device that can detect residue from explosives. One of the officers will stand in the rush of oncoming commuters, pull aside each tenth person or so, and ask him to place his bag on the table. One simple swipe with a little piece of cloth along the top of your bag, a quick reading of the cloth by the machine, a little beep (they will hand-search your bag if the machine detects anything), and off you go. Congratulations, you've proven you're not a terrorist intent on blowing up the train.
If you object to this procedure--either because you think it's ridiculous and a waste of money, like I do, or because you do intend to blow up the train--you're permitted to forgo the screening and leave the station. At this point, at many of the stations, you can just cross the street and come in through a different entrance. If that's not an option, you can walk to the next station and get on the train there. In my case, the next station is just half a mile away. The only bombers that this airtight security technique is actually succeeding in keeping off the train are the really lazy ones, I guess.
The Boston subway is the oldest in the nation. To my knowledge, there has never been a bombing or a terrorist attack on the T, or even an attempted one. But that didn't stop then-governor and current presidential candidate Mitt Romney from instituting these bag searches in the summer of 2004 when the Democratic National Convention came to Boston. He cited no specific threat, but of course he didn't have to. Since then, the searches have quietly continued. Oh, and by the way, they've never actually turned anything up.
Then there are the obnoxious loudspeaker alerts: "Now, more than ever, it's important to be alert, be aware, and be ready to report any suspicious bags or packages....Remember, if you see something, say something." (It'll give you an idea of how frequently these announcements are played if I tell you that I can rattle them off from memory, inflections and all.) Now, more than ever? Really, more than ever? Again, the message is: be afraid, be very afraid. That person sitting next to you might mean to do you harm.
All that security theater like this does is create a pervasive atmosphere of wariness, if not outright fear. And "no passion so effectually robs the mind of all its powers of acting and reasoning as fear." (Edmund Burke) Each new procedure is tacked on to the last, without much fanfare or protest, and the whole thing grows by small steps into a vast and entrenched security apparatus. We've all become so desensitized to these gradual encroachments, most of them relatively harmless in and of themselves, that we take them for granted. Very few people ever bother to ask: 1) whether it's all really necessary, or 2) whether these particular methods are even effective.
Pointless so-called "security measures" like these are designed and put into place by officials who must appear to be doing something, if only to ensure that they won't be blamed in the event of an actual attack. But perfect security is, and always will be, impossible. Instead of crying "terrorism" at every turn, buying a new million-dollar gizmo, and just making a good show of it, maybe we could look at the root of the problem. Maybe we could re-evaluate our foreign policy so that we aren't creating so many enemies in the first place.
No, to suggest such a thing would be treasonous, wouldn't it?
