(April 2011) AFTER DEPOSITING MY wallet, cell phone, parts of my uniform and various other sundries into the required plastic bins, I walked through the arch of the security magnetometer. I shuddered, fearing an activation of the chirping beep that would force me to succumb to a re-entry. I would then be required to remove the offending nickel or retractable pen from my pocket. But wait ... this particular country’s procedures don’t allow second tries. I would have to face the dreaded electronic wand.
When I passed through the gantlet without incident, it was a struggle to contain my relief. I sighed inwardly. Unfortunately, awaiting me on the other side of the X-ray belt was a terror far greater than I could have imagined. My steak sauce bottles were being scrutinized. “What?” you ask.
Yes, the prized steak sauce that I had purchased as a favor for a Florida neighbor was being examined by a 20-something equivalent of our Transportation Security Administration. I was being told that it was not acceptable to be brought on board the cockpit of the airplane that I was about to fly back to the United States — the same airplane that I would be operating as its designated captain.
Why? Because the plastic bottles that contained the steak sauce exceeded the 3-ounce limit by 1 ounce. Unscrewing a cap and showing the young gentleman that the bottles were sealed made no difference. It was just the rules, sir. Simple as that. With the bottles in my possession, I was a threat to crew and passengers. Certainly my command of a multithousand-pound jet was not nearly as consequential as a bottle of steak sauce. It made perfect sense.
If I wanted to transport the sauce home, my carry-on bag would have to be checked with the regular luggage. Rather than delay our departure, and for the sake of international security, I relented. How could I have been so cavalier?
In light of November’s passenger uproar regarding full-body scanners, perhaps it’s time to reflect upon the entire airline security process. Maybe the incident that I describe seems extreme. But consider the fact that the country utilizing these procedures is the closest ally of the United States. And consider the fact that the procedure is adhered to at checkpoints designated specifically for crew members and airport personnel. Crew members transiting regular passenger security screening in the terminal apparently are not treated to such indignities. Almost 10 years after 9/11, are we appropriately addressing the risk?
In so many words, I posed this question to aviation security expert Tom Walsh. Tom is a 767 captain for a competing major carrier. His resume in the security arena extends beyond the scope of this column. Suffice it to say, he is highly qualified and respected within the industry by both his peers and law enforcement. His opinions and perspective are utilized by one of the consulting firms that advise the TSA through Homeland Security Presidential Directive 16, the U.S. National Aviation Security Strategy.
Interestingly enough, the TSA seems to take advice better from professionally paid organizations than from advocacy groups such as pilots unions. Granted, certain U.S. policies restrict the consultation that can be obtained through labor groups, but it seems ironic that a pilot wearing a different hat becomes more credible when he is employed by another industry. The unfortunate part of the irony is that the U.S. taxpayer is indirectly paying for Tom’s expertise.
This is not to say that the TSA isn’t listening. On the contrary. Tom’s consulting firm assesses the risk of a terrorist threat through a formula that involves vulnerability, capability, enemy intentions and the appropriate consequences.
What can we do better to mitigate the risk of terrorism aboard U.S. airlines? The single most important strategy is to change our philosophy about the screening process. In the United States, we focus a major portion of our energies on discovering the instrument of the threat rather than the individual who has the intent to carry out the threat. Passengers are treated equally as though everyone is a potential terrorist. It wastes time and resources. What philosophy might be more efficient?
First, consider the Israeli attitude that intelligence gathering is the single most important counterterrorist tool. Remember Richard Reid of shoe bomber fame? He attempted an operational test aboard an El Al flight and determined that the risk was too great. The Israelis already had a file started on him. He didn’t operate in a vacuum. He was a bona fide operative of al-Qaida. And so was his partner. But Reid’s partner got cold feet the day before the incident. The partner is resting comfortably in a U.K. prison cell.
