(I wrote this at the end of August. I may have posted it temporarily. Given the new controversy, I decided to repost.)

When it comes to airline security, we’re like sheep led to the slaughter. I was recently lucky enough to catch an early return flight to Philadelphia from Chicago’s O’Hare airport, getting the last seat, five hours before the next open flight. I was also directed to a priority security line, with about 20 people ahead of me, instead of a snakelike line of several hundred mid-afternoon travelers.

After a few minutes, I noticed that my line was barely moving. I soon realized the cause: security was using a full body scanner, taking 40 to 45 seconds or more per passenger. According to the TSA, the scanners have been installed at 43 airports, with more to come.

Although full body scanning should quicken some with experience, anyone who pondered their purchase following the failed “underwear bomber” attempt understood that delays would be problematic, and that their acquisition would not pass any reasonable cost benefit test. Ten to twenty or more extra seconds per passenger will require a lot of time and misery for millions of passengers.

I commiserated with a few people in line, but otherwise held my tongue, not wanting to provoke security. We know that any TSA employee has the power to ruin one’s day, even if one of the many who don’t relish the power to harass and humiliate weary business travelers, senior citizens, or, at one time, my 12 year old daughter (those early-pubescent backpacks accompanying a vacationing family are a serious threat).

When I finally arrived at the front, one of at least five TSA employees working the line directed me to a traditional scanner, apparently because the “priority line” had become a bit of a joke, or perhaps because I had already stripped to my underwear. (OK — not really.) Let’s pray that such wisdom – by TSA employees – becomes common.

The adoption of full body scanning technology makes a dysfunctional system of airline security worse. While some infrequent flyers probably feel safer and are willing to suffer accordingly, the rest of us take the abuse out of fear of reprisal, inherent docility in the face of bureaucratic oppression, and inability to organize. If we could organize to stop flying, or at least cut back significantly, until sensible policies were adopted, we could quickly reform the TSA. But that won’t happen. Baaahh.

August 24, 2010

A few days ago I was lucky enough to catch an early return flight to Philadelphia from Chicago’s O’Hare airport, getting the last seat on the plane, five hours before the next open flight.  To top that off, I was directed to a priority security line, with about 20 people ahead of me, instead of a snakelike line of several hundred mid-afternoon travelers.

After a few minutes, I noticed that my line was barely moving.  I soon realized the the problem:  TSA was using one of the new full body scanners, which was taking 40 to 45 seconds or more per passenger.  Although the process should speed a little with experience, anyone who thought about the purchase of these devices following the failed “underwear bomber” knew that delays would be a problem, and that their purchase and use would not pass any reasonable cost benefit test.  A “few” extra seconds per passenger adds up to a lot of time and misery for hundreds and millions of passengers.

I griped to a few people next to me in line, but I otherwise “assumed the position,” not wanting to be hassled by anyone from TSA.  We know that any given TSA employee can ruin one’s day, even if that person is one of the many who don’t relish the power to harass and humiliate a weary business traveler, a senior citizen, or, at one time, my 12 year old daughter (those early-pubescent backpacks among a vacationing family are a real threat).

When I finally reached the front, one of the 4-5 TSA employees working the line waived me through the normal scanner, apparently because the “priority line” had become a bit of a joke (or perhaps because I had already stripped to my underwear).  Let’s hope that such wisdom (by the TSA) becomes common.

U.S. airline security procedures are the real joke.  While a few (infrequent) flyers probably feel safer and are happy to suffer, the rest of us take it, out of fear of reprisal, , inherent docility in the face of bureaucratic oppression, and inability to organize.  If we could organize to stop flying or at least cut back significantly until sensible policies were adopted, we could quickly slay the TSA monster.  But that won’t happen.  Baaahh!