Forgetting 9/11

I made a trip to China recently. When I travel, I like to carefully observe airports and border crossings. The security procedures and the conduct of the personnel in these places both serve as good barometers for the state’s attitude toward their citizenry (and the citizens of other countries). Also revealed is the state’s attitude toward itself. Does it see itself as under siege? Does it see itself as part of a global community? What and whom does it fear?

The security at Shanghai’s Pudong airport was pleasantly surprising in its reasonability. I filed into one of several lines just after having my passport stamped. I passed through a metal detector and placed my bag on the conveyor for the scanner. The personnel looked briefly at the x-rays of my bag and waved me through the metal detector without a second thought. I kept my shoes on. I kept my belt on. I kept my watch on. I even kept my hooded sweatshirt on. The whole process was quick, quiet, and relatively dignified.

Contrast this with a typical American airport. Shed every non-essential clothing item. Pass under the watchful eyes of the over-staffed TSA wearing their blue latex gloves as if already prepped to conduct a body cavity search. Rush to grab your shit out of the bins so you don’t hold up the line. To say nothing of the new full-body scanners and pat downs. I can go through an American airport wearing a dress shirt and sport coat, looking like I’m traveling for business (which I am), and I get treated like a criminal. I can go through a Chinese airport with a foreign passport, wearing a t-shirt and a hoodie, and I get treated like a citizen.

There must be some mistake here, no? Surely if one of these two countries were to have airport security measures befitting a police state, it would be the paranoid, insular Red China. That’s what we would want to believe, but it’s not so. The US trumps many countries in the absurdity of its airport and border security. I made a four-month-long trip a few years ago to Southeast Asia, as well. When I returned, some friends and family asked if it wasn’t scary traveling alone in such foreign places. “The scariest part of my trip?” I replied. “Flying out of LAX.” As a first-time international traveler, I was sure I would lose my passport, money, boarding pass, or other essential item somewhere in the noisy chaos of partial disrobement and security checkpoints. I caught planes in Sydney, Kuala Lumpur, Padang, Surabaya, Labuanbajo, and Denpasar during the course of that trip, and not one of those places came close to LAX for intimidation and unpleasantness in security.

Ah, but we had 9/11, didn’t we? That day made clear the danger faced when flying on inadequately policed airliners. We’ve also had near-misses with shoe bombers and underwear bombers. Against these threats, extraordinary measures are justified.

To say that the danger to US air travelers has been exaggerated is itself exaggeratedly understated. 3,000 citizens died on 9/11. On a personal level, tragic and atrocious. On a national level, insignificant. A tiny percentage of our population were killed in an isolated incident. It was a shocking mass murder carried out in symbolic fashion. It was not a threat to our country. Nor, really, was it a threat to the average air traveler. After a brief period of one or two years in which we might worry about copycat attacks, there’s no reason to consider oneself more likely to be killed in an airplane after 9/11 than before. 

These attacks took place over ten years ago. It’s time we forget them a bit. The innocent people who died that day and the people who worked so selflessly to rescue the survivors deserve our remembrance, but those who support the security measures in our aiports have clearly drawn the wrong lessons from our recent history. There’s far more to learn from 9/11 about how we relate to other nations than there is to learn about how we monitor transportation.

If we were to revert to pre-9/11 airport security measures, the chance that I would get blown up the next time I fly would probably be greater than it is with the TSA asking me to undress and waiting for the opportunity to benevolently pat my genitals. But the chance is still extraordinarily remote. A simple metal detector and bag scanner is a sensible precaution against violence. Shedding clothes and being searched is not.

I wear a seatbelt when I drive. I don’t wear a helmet and a flame-retardant jumpsuit. We take our lives in our hands every waking moment. Riding a bike, driving a car, using a gas stove, crossing the street, eating in restaurants, being near other people. And we could also die in an airplane at the hands of a terrorist. I don’t live in fear of these things, though, and the fear of airline violence (dutifully instilled in us by organs of the state) has induced many to accept the inconvenience and indignity of being treated like second-class citizens when they travel. They say they are willing to accept it if it means being safe. I’d rather take the risk and go back to being treated like a human being. 

The process for properly preparing a pomegranate

Pomegranates are in season right now. I am indulging heavily. It’s a problem. They’re expensive, but I can’t help myself. They’ve been a regular holiday-season habit of mine for several years now. But when I first started eating them, I found them frustrating and confusing. There’s an awful lot of inedible pith and membrane in them, and the little flesh-covered seeds (called arils) can be deeply embedded in the rind. I would usually finish eating one with my hands and face covered in a sticky mixture of pith and blood-colored juice. It was undignified.

It wasn’t until I had practiced a bit and done some research that I finally figured out how to enjoy a pomegranate to its maximum potential. The first step is to pick the right one. The best pomegranate is not necessarily the best-looking. Most supermarkets carry a lot of large, perfectly round, waxy-looking, smooth pomegranates. Although pretty, these are fairly hit-and-miss as far as the quality of the fruit goes. I’ve had better luck with the smaller, uglier ones. Look for a pomegranate that’s sort of angular and bumpy with rough, dry-looking skin. Give it a very light squeeze. It should be hard. The harder the better. If it’s soft, that means the arils closest to the outside are either bruised, underdeveloped, or both. 

A little time spent preparing the fruit will make the actual eating of it far more enjoyable. Grab a sharp knife and a small mixing bowl. Put on an apron or a shirt you don’t care about, because you’re going to end up squirting a bit of juice around. 

Carefully score the rind into quarters and break them apart. Grab one quarter and sort of turn the rind inside out over the bowl, expelling some of the arils.

Break the remaining arils off the pith into the bowl. Don’t worry about pith and membrane falling in the bowl. We’ll deal with that in a moment.

Once you’ve got all the arils out of the pith and membranes (a tedious process, but worth it), fill the bowl with cold water.

The arils will sink and the inedible stuff will float. Pick out the inedible stuff. 

Pomegranate arils are best served chilled, so let them sit in the cold water for a bit and maybe throw in a few ice cubes. As soon as you’re unable to resist any longer, drain the water and dig in with a spoon. Bliss.

I read somewhere that pomegranates contain lots of vitamins and minerals or something, but I don’t concern myself much with that part. They’re delicious and beautiful, and that alone is reason to eat them.

Carriers backward

This piece from Eric Margolis gives some food for thought for those with an interest in military history. The era of aircraft carriers’ dominance in deciding overseas military conflicts is at and end, he says. Guided anti-ship missiles with long ranges, heavy payloads, and high accuracy are making a target as large and expensive as an aircraft carrier obsolete. And for the past half-century and longer, the projection of US power overseas has hinged on an enormous carrier fleet. 

There’s an old maxim (maybe a cliche) that says “Generals always prepare to fight the last war—particularly if they won it.” Such might be the case with US military strategists who still believe in the indispensability of the aircraft carrier. The carrier fleet was instrumental in winning the Pacific War. Surely, say those military leaders raised on the lessons of WWII naval battles, the carrier fleet must be a decisive factor in any future war. 

If another great war is on the horizon (who knows?), that assumption might spell the end of America’s reign as top dog in world affairs. It’s a truism by now that the tacticians of WWI were fighting a 19th-century war with 20th-century technology. Doing so cost them millions of lives and incalculable wealth. It also cost Russia its empire and began unraveling those of Britain and France. America may now be poised to fight a 21st-century war using 20th-century tactics, and the result would likely be a precipitous decline in her international influence.

Not to say that’s a bad thing. American hegemony overseas is unsustainable. There is too much debt, too many spheres of interest, too much overextension. And that’s ignoring the moral considerations. But the naval brass who insist on the rightness of the American Empire and the necessity of maintaining it with a multi-billion-dollar carrier fleet would do well to study more closely the lessons of the past.