Bruce Schneier is best known to the world, and probably to readers of FDL, for his trenchant sanity-based critique of the way America has responded to security threats through the post-9/11 era. His Schneier on Security is the standard reference site on this topic. When you hear the phrase “security theater” — or think of it when passing through TSA checkpoints or dealing with other features of the modern security state — you’re using a term usually credited to Schneier.
In my magazine, the Atlantic, Jeffrey Goldberg has profiled Schneier and his security concepts in one of the most popular articles we have ever run, “The Things He Carried.” He has also talked about Schneier’s emphasis on resilience as the core of a nation’s security strategy. That is: if you try to guard against every conceivable security threat, you can end up strangling a society and destroying the very liberties you are theoretically trying to defend. Instead it makes sense to take all reasonable preventive measures — but then shift your emphasis to the tools of resilience, so you can limit the damage and resume normal activities if some attack succeeds. In personal risk-management, this would be the difference between: (a) never leaving the house, and living in a sanitized bubble, so as to avoid any exposure to outside germs, and (b) maintaining good overall health so that you bounce back quickly when you do get sick.
I mention all this as prelude to Schneier’s latest book, Liars & Outliers, which is not directly about security-theater, the TSA, or other familiar themes, but which explores some of the deeper principles on which social health depends. The subtitle of the book conveys the main theme: “Enabling the Trust that Society Needs to Thrive.” It is a systematic assessment of the conditions that allow people to assume the best rather than the worst from the others they encounter during the day. Or, if not strictly “the best,” at least assuming that people you deal with will maintain a basic level of honesty and, yes, trust-worthiness even when no one is watching to monitor their behavior. You can get in a taxi and assume that the driver will take you to your destination rather than robbing you; you can order a meal in a restaurant and assume that it hasn’t been poisoned; you can walk down a crowded street without worrying that any passer-by might be carrying a dagger and planning to stab you.
There are places around the world where you cannot take any of these things on trust, and life works differently — and worse — there. Schneier’s book involves trust in all walks of society, from the highest-level corruption and abuse of power to routine social interactions. He is not the first one to have considered this concept. In the mid-1990s, Francis Fukuyama examined similar issues in a book called Trust: The Social Virtues and the Creation of Prosperity. A few years earlier, a book of my own, called More Like Us, argued that something I called the “radius of trust” was a very important guide to a society’s ability to thrive. (When people trust only members of their own in-group — family, clan, tribe — social life is worse by almost any measure than when there are efforts to promote trust on a broader scale.) And back to Max Weber and long before, writers and political theorists have emphasized how much difference these “soft,” non-legislated parts of behavior matter. The run-on-the-bank scene in It’s a Wonderful Life is all about what happens when people no longer trust that their money will be safe tomorrow if they leave it in the bank today.
How is this connected to security? How can an ever-more divided and unequal America deal with issues of trust? Bruce Schneier explores these themes in his book, and will handle our questions on them here.
[As a courtesy to our guests, please keep comments to the book and be respectful of dissenting opinions. Please take other conversations to a previous thread. – bev]