It is 2001, and I meticulously track the baseball season.  My favorite team, the Atlanta Braves, are tracking well into yet another division title.  I am both a bachelor and a night owl and routinely fall asleep to the television on ESPN’s Sports Center.  This is precisely what happens on this September Monday; I expect to wake to the morning version of Sports Center.  I do not.  The conventional news plays on ESPN, which perplexes me.  Then, I watch in horror as I see a plane strike one of the Twin Towers in New York City.  Quite abruptly, the world changed.

I need not go into the details of what happened on that day; there are many other and better sources for that.  First, air travel shut down for about a week.  Next, New York and Washington DC spent many months removing debris and rebuilding.  All sporting events ceased for a while; I can’t even remember how long.  That was the immediate aftermath of the events.

However, in the wake of those events, there are elements in our lives that have permanently changed.  Millennials won’t remember a life without them; for those who remember life before 2001, we rarely think about it anymore.  This simply became our ‘new normal’.  Some things are gone forever, like cigarette vending machines decades before.

How our lives changed

We collectively recall the horrific events of that day and vow to never again allow terrorists to target us in that way.  To that end, we tolerate taking what seem like reasonable precautions and give up certain conveniences; this mostly affects air travel, at least visibly.  For instance, we carry zippered plastic bags with our liquids in carry-on luggage.  Similarly, I fondly remember walking my mom all the way to the gate upon her departure from Seattle and treasuring those extra few minutes.  Likewise, I travel with a CPAP and need to travel with distilled water, I can’t do that with carry-on luggage; it must be in checked luggage.  It is our new normal.

What is less visible is the invasion into our privacy.  We also passed the Patriot Act, and two scary provisions of this law:

• ‘Enhanced’ security against terrorism – this means that we can do more things to you and that we can detain you indefinitely.  Remember Guantanamo Bay, Cuba?
• ‘Enhanced’ surveillance – this means that we can monitor what you do online and your communications.

When it comes to arresting someone, search warrants, and detaining someone, there’s a little thing called probable cause.  The simplification is that we, in the form of law enforcement, need to be reasonably sure that you have done something wrong before we issue arrest warrants, search warrants (to tap your phone, for instance), and keep you in order to question you.  That changed with the Patriot Act; we no longer needed probable cause.

Note:  It seems as though the Patriot Act, or at least elements of it, expired in 2020.

The price of safety

Those attacks horrified us in unspeakable ways; I remember precisely what I was doing that morning.  However, there were fewer than 3000 killed in those attacks, and our population at the time was 285 million.  That affected 0.001% of our population.  I understand the need to feel safe, but what is the price we’re willing to pay for that safety?  Are we collectively and willfully at peace with trading our rights to probable cause for a marginal added safety?  Furthermore, did these particular provisions of the Patriot Act result in any measurable improvement on our safety?  Did we actually thwart another 9/11?  How much are we willing to give up for those 3000 souls?

Or allow me to frame it differently, how much are we willing to give up for 930,000 deaths and counting?  This is the current figure for coronavirus deaths in the United States.  Let’s say that you debate the count of that figure, surely you agree that there have been at very least 3000 people (among the 930k) who have died who had no pre-existing conditions.  How do we rationalize that we’re willing to give up elements of our privacy for safety from terrorists, but are unwilling to wear a mask or get vaccinated to protect our fellow citizens?

I remember with great sadness walking by a car with the sticker, “Your health does not trump my freedom.”  It’s not that they don’t understand that they’re putting others at risk; it’s that they don’t care.

Is protecting others that objectionable?

I don’t agree with all the guidelines that were imposed past September 11th.  As I walk through the TSA lines at the airport, I ponder about how easy they’d be to game.  I simply don’t believe that they’re foolproof or effective.  However, it doesn’t fracture my life to put the distilled water (for my CPAP) into checked luggage.  Furthermore, to put all my liquids and creams into a quart-sized zippered plastic bag doesn’t impact my freedom enough for me to complain.  I had much larger objections to the intrusions on our online privacy, but those elements are now defunct.  Furthermore, I condemn anyone who throws a tantrum or assaults a TSA agent about the Ziplock bag policy.

I understand that you may not necessarily agree with mask requirements at Costco, but do you really need to throw a tantrum and lie on the ground in protest?  Do we need to be so disruptive that the airline bans you as a passenger?  There has been a sharp rise of rage in air travel.  A hostess at a New York restaurant was assaulted for simply asking for proof of vaccination.  Do any of these warrant this level of angst and confrontation?  And more subtly, even if you disagree with the policy, can you condemn the childish behavior these people exhibit?

I asked my doctor if there are any legit exceptions to wear a mask; she said there are none (not even asthma).  Wear a mask.  Unless you have an underlying condition that prevents it (consult your doctor) or your religion objects to all vaccines, get vaccinated and boosted.

And if you should really object to doing either of the above, at very least stop complicating the lives of people who simply do their job.  Don’t be an asshole.