Security

Take off your shoes. Take out your laptop. Remove your coat.
TSA has an important job: stop would-be terrorists.
Their job is inconvenient yet very important. (I thank them every time.)

I asked a TSA officer last time I flew, “Have you ever caught someone by taking off their shoes?”

“Nope.”

“Coat?”

“Nope.”

“Any of the other stuff?”

“Nope. Just the full body scanner. It does all the real work.”

Why all the other nonsense? Why do I have to unlace my shoes each and every time? Why the theatrics of it all? Because pulling out the bins and putting your belongs, piece by piece, into them, while someone with power stands over you feeds your assumption (superstition!) that you are participating in making you, your things, and your flight safer.

How much of it is theater and how much of it really contributes to your safety? 90/10? (That might be heavy on the 10% side.)

We want to feel secure, like we’re doing what we can, creating what we can, participating in what we can to make our lives safer. What's behind that pursuit? What’s behind willingly participating in safety theater? Feeling unsafe, of course. Feeling insecure.

It’s superstition, but it doesn’t matter, because the superstition works (psychologically). The superstition that makes TSA effective is the superstition that without all the rigmarole, at any moment, the whole thing could go down.

If you want to do work that matters, find something that addresses the need for theater and/or actually makes a measurable difference beyond the theater. Find the work that combats the feelings of insecurity or contributes to actual security—more than just psychologically. People like us that are unwilling to continue like this are asking the hard questions about what feels right and is right, what contributes to the sensations of un-safety and is a measurable investment into our future safety.