President Obama is correct when he says that a "systemic failure" in security allowed Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab to get on a Detroit-bound airliner intent on blowing it up. Better inter-agency coordination and intelligence sharing might have kept the young Nigerian terrorist from boarding the plane in either Lagos or Amsterdam. Beyond the "macro" questions of counterterrorism that have been raised by this failed attack, there is also the more mundane, micro-level question: short of strip-searching every passenger, how can we prevent another terrorist from getting past airport security with explosives sewn into his or her underwear?
After Richard Reid attempted to ignite explosives in his shoes in December 2001, everyone, regardless of how young or old, was required to remove their shoes and run them through the detection equipment at US airports. Now, in response to Abdulmutallab's actions, there is talk of acquiring multi-million dollar full-body scanners that can see through clothing, and/or physically searching every single passenger at airports. In other words, the response to this new threat might be to add more high-cost technology-placed in the hands of poorly paid and minimally trained TSA employees-or to apply another time-consuming, one-size-fits-all policy that makes no relevant distinctions between passengers.
But these are not the only options available. Every time I've flown out of Israel's Ben-Gurion Airport to return to the United States, I have been struck by its unique security procedures-they are unlike anything I have experienced at an American airport. At Ben-Gurion, the bulwark of security is not technological, but human. Everyone first waits in a single line with all their luggage in tow. An English-speaking security agent interviews each passenger while looking him or her straight in the eye. The questions can be intrusive.
Here is a typical dialogue I have experienced at Ben-Gurion Airport:
Agent: "How long were you in Israel?"
Me: "Two weeks"
Agent: "Why were you in Israel?"
Me: "Sightseeing and to visit family."
Agent: "Where did you go? What are the names of your family in Israel, and where do they live?"
The questions can become even more specific and personal. "Are you Jewish? Are you a member of a synagogue in your town, and what is the name of the synagogue? Do you speak Hebrew? Where did you learn Hebrew? Say something in Hebrew."
The airport security agent is not taking notes on what I say, and is not interested in building a file on my background or my movements in the country. The purpose is not data collection, but to see if she can trip me up. With direct eye contact, she is looking for "tells"--signs of nervousness or dishonesty. Even for a completely innocent traveler this can be a stressful encounter, and the agent seems to understand that. Not all signs of nervousness are treated alike.
On one of my trips I had also visited Jordan, and that provoked additional questioning. On another trip, when asked if my luggage had ever been out of my sight before coming to the airport, I answered honestly that it had been with the hotel concierge for a few hours. My passport was then tagged with a different-colored sticker and I was sent to the more intrusive baggage inspection station. My suitcases were carefully emptied and searched. I had been in Israel for an academic trip, and the baggage security agent flipped through my conference paper and all the books I was bringing back, asking me polite but pointed questions. Although the experience lasted less than five minutes, it was thorough--and a bit intimidating.
Israel, used to dealing with terrorism on a regular basis, is at the forefront of security research and development. But it does not put all its eggs in the high-tech basket or treat all passengers alike. From my anecdotal experiences, it seems that the front line for Israel's airport security is its well-trained personnel, armed with the prerogative to ask brief but intrusive questions and closely observe the responses. How each passenger is dealt with all depends on how he or she responded to the initial questioning. Some passengers, including those who are "profiled" for specific reasons, have their luggage thoroughly inspected by airport security and might be held for additional questioning. Others are told to simply put their suitcases on the x-ray machine's conveyor belt and head to their gate. Ben-Gurion is arguably the most secure airport in the world, yet at no time have I ever had to remove my shoes there.
The Israeli model may not be completely applicable to the United States. Israel is a small country with only one international airport. Having agents trained in basic psychology and interviewing techniques assigned to every US airport would be extremely expensive-although perhaps no more expensive than equipping each airport with new, multi-million dollar machines. There is also the question of privacy rights. How many Americans would be comfortable with TSA agents asking them personal questions while waiting in line? On the other hand, in response to the underwear bomb, we are now talking about full-body x-rays for all passengers. Having to undergo a brief "security triage" interview that is used to differentiate passengers might actually be less of a civil liberties infringement than the more hi-tech intrusions on all passengers currently being contemplated.
Since 9/11 we have seen how terrorist techniques evolve and adapt in response to new security measures. The shoe bomb was replaced by the underwear bomb. One day an explosive device might be ingested by a terrorist as the new way to avoid detection. But while the instruments of terror will continue to change, one thing will remain constant: the human element. Terrorists, regardless of how they are carrying their explosive devices, might betray their nervousness or some other "tell" under close personal scrutiny and questioning. The Israeli model may not be the complete answer for US airport security. But at least it shows us that other models exist, and are effective.
That's really odd.
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