The Christmas bomber has unleashed a whole new level of ineffectual crazy on us. I am not talking about the Nigerian perpetrator himself, but the new wave of airline regulations his attempt has triggered. If they become permanent, air-travel that is already uncomfortable will be even more so. First-up is a rule on international flights that prohibits travellers from leaving their seats or having anything on their laps in the final hour of the flight. Anyone with a weak bladder might have to forgo the Continent this year; but would-be bombers will not be inconvenienced at all. They will simply detonate an hour earlier.
This new rule mimics the logic that, in the wake of the 2001 “Shoe-Bomber’s” attempt to ignite his Ked’s, has us removing our shoes for inspection before every flight. The latest would be blaster left his seat and attempted to detonate himself in the bathroom one hour before arrival. Process of elimination. One can only extrapolate that this approach will ultimately have us arriving at the airport a day earlier, stripping naked, submitting to a cavity search, then donning orange jumpsuits equipped with NASA waste collectors for the trip home.
We all know and love the rule change that netted a bonanza of free health and beauty products for some casual somebodies charged with emptying the bins of discarded toiletries at security check-ins. Now how does that rule go again? I try not to fly, but I think the current rule might go something like this: only 2-oz. containers of any one liquid or gel, sealed in a quart-size zip-lok baggie, with a maximum of five items per baggie. My husband, who travels much more than I do, once asked the security screener what would happen if he decided to open his baggie during the flight and take something out? The security screener was at a total loss for an answer. He clearly had been given no explanation for the purpose of the rule. I think we all have similar stories of complete disconnect in the airport security chain, but the latest episode over Detroit compels me to share one more personal tale of security sillies.
In September, I drove a friend to Burlington airport for a flight to Las Vegas. She was attending her nephew’s wedding, and she had crammed as much as she could into her carry-on in the likely event that her luggage got lost.
It was a Sunday, the airport was quiet and she had arrived well in advance of her flight. When she reached the security screeners table, they asked her if, since there was plenty of time, she would “mind” if they submitted her carry-on to one of their random full-searches. She considered saying “no” because she didn’t like the idea of trying to cram everything back into her bag again; but she couldn’t see how she could refuse. The screener opened the bag and “wanded” the interior with a preliminary swipe, then ran the swab through a spectrometer which reacted with an alarm. All hell broke loose. “PETN!” the screener called out to another security staffer, “PETN?!” she responded concernedly. A chorus rose of “PETN!, PETN!”
The suitcase was unpacked and thoroughly swabbed, inside and out. My friend was searched and asked again if anyone had had the opportunity to tamper with her bag. She finally demanded an explanation and was told that PETN is essentially the “bang” in bullets, and there was a trace of it somewhere on her suitcase. They told her that she could have picked-it-up just wheeling her bag through the airport! The equipment was so sensitive that it could detect the tiniest grain of PETN. She stuffed her possessions back into her bag and was allowed to board. It made a great story at the wedding; and on her way home again, she wasn’t even queried. Then we forgot all about it until yesterday when the whole country learned that the Christmas bomber had somehow smuggled eight ounces of PETN onto his flight!
Ah, the myth of airport security: extremely random searches with equipment so insanely sensitive that it can detect particles too small to detonate, and so expensive and time-consuming to employ that only a tiny fraction of passengers can ever be screened. And who does the random screening nab for PETN? Not Mr. Christmas bomber who sails through check-in on an international flight with eight ounces of the Big Bang…no, not him, despite the fact that his own father had already warned the authorities. Instead, a middle-aged Vermont woman on her way to a Vegas wedding gets the full business.
When is National Security going to finally admit that we might as well be reciting incantations over passenger lists for all the practical good each new “regulation” does toward securing terror-free skies? We’re never going to be able to throw enough money at the problem to actually solve it through screening and regulations. In reality, if every single passenger was physically checked for every possible threat, and every single article in every single bag was screened as well, we might narrow the percentages considerably, but the cost of an airline ticket would quadruple, and we’d all have to get to the airport the night before our departure. The airline industry won’t absorb the losses, the taxpayers won’t fund them, and the passengers will get the shaft pretty much as usual.
Welcome to 2010.