On Christmas day, a man from Nigeria tried to blow up Northwest Airlines Flight 253, a transatlantic flight about to land in Detroit, by using explosive chemicals sewn into his underwear. The Transportation Security Administration (TSA) immediately responded to this new terrorist threat by ordering passengers not to read during the last hour of their flight.
The bomb-maker sneaked his bomb onto the plane past tight security checks in Amsterdam, and when his planned explosion fizzled, he was subdued not by security officials (there were none on the plane) but by passengers and the plane's flight attendants. But in order to discourage similar attacks in the future, the TSA has seen fit to order passengers to remain seated while the plane begins its descent, to return their seat backs and tray tables to their upright position, and to stow all personal items, including books and magazines.
Air Canada was the first carrier to announce the new rules: "During the final hour of flight customers must remain seated, will not be allowed to access carry-on baggage, or have personal belongings or other items on their laps." Personal items include not just worry beads or electronic devices like laptops, Kindles, and iPods, but also traditional print materials, everything from The Little Black Book of Sudoku or An Inconvenient Truth to the latest Dan Brown page turner, not to mention the Bible, the Koran, or the American Way magazine conveniently located in your seatback compartment.
At least that's what passengers on an American Airlines flight from Paris to Chicago were told the day after the Christmas attack: positively no reading from somewhere over the state of Michigan till touchdown on runway 32L at O'Hare--no books, in fact, till the plane taxis to the gate and the captain has turned off the seatbelt sign.
Teachers worry that reading levels are at an all-time low, but apparently the Department of Homeland Security thinks that illiterate flyers make the safest flyers, or at least the most patriotic ones. Or perhaps DHS profilers have determined that passengers who read are only one step away from passengers who kill.
But what makes reading during the last hour of flight more dangerous than reading on take-off, over the ocean, or over landmarks like lower Manhattan or Lockerbie? Once on board, a bomber can detonate a bomb at any time. Readers, armed with the power of text, can use what they learn any time as well.
Banning books has been popular with governments ever since writers began writing them--if a little knowledge is a dangerous thing, then a whole lot of knowledge, according to the censors, must be even worse. So when the TSA finally recognizes the true danger posed by books, they'll start taking them away from us during the preflight security screening the way they took away our nail clippers. Even now the TSA is contemplating asking passengers, "Has anyone you don't know asked you to read something on the plane?" Answering "Yes" will get you a cavity search and a place on the no-fly list, but answering "No," the answer any self-respecting terrorist would give to such a lame question, means you can then do whatever you want on board, except of course during that last hour of the flight, when all electronic devices must be turned off and all books must be closed and returned to their upright position. (Remember that cell phones and two-way pagers must be turned off at all times while the plane is airborne--does anyone even carry a two-way pager any more?)
Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab, the Nigerian Christmas terrorist, got on a plane after his father, a wealthy Nigerian banker with a fondness for email, warned authorities that he might pose a threat, after he was banned from Britain, and after he bought a ticket at the last minute with cash and had no luggage to check, signs which should have triggered a security alert but didn't. And he passed through airport screening with no problem despite having a syringe and chemicals stashed in his underwear.
After Richard Reid tried to light his sneaker on fire over the Atlantic, airport screeners made us remove our shoes before boarding. And when a group of terrorists were caught trying to carry explosive liquids onto planes in London, the authorities took away our shampoo, toothpaste, makeup, and shaving cream. Now, thanks to Abdulmutallab, instead of making us all put our undies through the scanner, we have to give up reading. All of this suggests that the TSA's screening procedures are making flying more unpleasant, but not any safer. In response to stepped up security measures and the fact that passengers don't get so much as a fat-free pretzel on a flight from New York to San Francisco, more and more business travelers and vacationers are driving or staying home, while the terrorists filling their empty seats are greeted with yet another empty industry message: "We know you have many airlines to choose from, and we thank you for flying with us today."
The TSA should take books off the list of banned items, a list that includes scissors with blades more than four inches long, all knives, tools, clubs, explosives, guns, and hair products in containers larger than three ounces. Because right now it's sending the message that reading and safety are mutually exclusive, instead of recognizing that the passengers with their nose in a book are probably not the most dangerous people on the plane.
According to new air security rules, passengers on international flights may not even read the Department of Homeland Security's threat-level signs during the final hour of their flight
